Maude Gray's Swing
By John Clare
Maude Gray lives they say
Hear the silent swing creak
Children, come and play!
Maude Gray no longer sleeps.
Maude Gray whispers soft
Summer's long day's end
Children, comes the frost
Maude Grays long slumber ends.
Maude Gray calls from Camp
Winters freeze quiets the chain
Children wake, trim your lamp
Maude Gray stirs again.
Maude Gray so very young
The phlox of Spring spread
Come children, who once swung
Maude Gray's no longer dead.
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