This wonderful little-known poem from one of English literature’s greatest nature poets isn’t available online anywhere, so we’ve reproduced it below as the latest in our ‘Post A Poem A Day’ challenge. In the poem, John Clare (1793-1864) extols the virtue of home as a place to return to at the end of a hard day, a place of comfort and belonging. The poem’s form deftly reflects this, with the last line of each stanza returning to home – i.e. by ending on the very word ‘home’. For a good edition of John Clare’s poetry, we recommend John Clare: Major Works from Oxford University Press.

Home

Muses no more what ere ye be
In fancys pleasures roam
But sing (by truth inspir’d) wi’ me
The pleasures of a home

Nor vain extreems I sigh for here
No Lordlings costly dome
‘Be thine the choice’ says reason ‘where
‘Contentment crowns a home’

O! fate to give my bosom peace
Unsettl’d as I roam
To bid my restless wanderings cease
& fix me in a home

A evening cot days toils to cheer
When tir’d I ceas’d to roam
& lovley Ema smileing near
O happy happy home

How oft the tramping Vagrant sighs
(By fate ordain’d to roam)
For labours best & happiest joys
The comforts of a home

& O when labour night descries
When ceas’d to toil & roam
What joys will in his bosom rise
To think he owns a home

If you enjoyed John Clare’s ‘Home’, you might also like this selection of Clare’s greatest poems.