In my Nature Notebook...

"One Crow Sorrow, Two Crows Joy
Three crows a Letter, Four crows Boy
Five Crows silver, Six crows Gold
Seven crows a secret never to be told."




SONNET: THE CROW 

 John Clare 

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 How peaceable it seems for lonely men 

To see a crow fly in the thin blue sky 

Over the woods and fealds, o'er level fen 

It speaks of villages, or cottage nigh 

Behind the neighbouring woods--when march winds high 

Tear off the branches of the huge old oak

 I love to see these chimney sweeps sail by 

And hear them o'er the knarled forest croak 

Then sosh askew from the hid woodmans stroke 

That in the woods their daily labours ply 

I love the sooty crow nor would provoke 

Its march day exercises of croaking joy 

I love to see it sailing to and fro 

While feelds and woods and waters spread below.

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