The Landrail

By John Clare

How sweet and pleasant grows the way

Through summer time again

While Landrails call from day to day

Amid the grass and grain

We hear it in the weeding time

When knee deep waves the corn

We hear it in the summers prime

Through meadows night and morn

And now I hear it in the grass

That grows as sweet again

And let a minutes notice pass

And now tis in the grain

Tis like a fancy everywhere

A sort of living doubt

We know tis something but it neer

Will blab the secret out

If heard in close or meadow plots

It flies if we pursue

But follows if we notice not

The close and meadow through

Boys know the note of many a bird

In their birdnesting bounds

But when the landrails noise is heard

They wonder at the sounds

They look in every tuft of grass

Thats in their rambles met

They peep in every bush they pass

And none the wiser get

And still they hear the craiking sound

And still they wonder why

It surely cant be under ground

Nor is it in the sky

And yet tis heard in every vale

An undiscovered song

And makes a pleasant wonder tale

For all the summer long

The shepherd whistles through his hands

And starts with many a whoop

His busy dog across the lands

In hopes to fright it up

Tis still a minutes length or more

Till dogs are off and gone

Then sings and louder than before

But keeps the secret on

Yet accident will often meet

The nest within its way

And weeders when they weed the wheat

Discover where they lay

And mowers on the meadow lea

Chance on their noisy guest

And wonder what the bird can be

That lays without a nest

In simple holes that birds will rake

When dusting on the ground

They drop their eggs of curious make

Deep blotched and nearly round

A mystery still to men and boys

Who know not where they lay

And guess it but a summer noise

Among the meadow hay