Having read almost all of Bloomfield's verse, Janet, I think I agree with you that he was a worthy poet, not really a great one...but for a poor, sickly lad with negligible education (almost as little as Clare), an apprentice cobbler, learning poetic style from reading London literary magazines only, he did pretty well in producing very enjoyable verse. One must admit the soundness of his meters and smoothness of his rhythm as well as his frequently striking images and figures of speech.
Soon, when Peter Cochran's mss, also called "The Farmer's Boy," is published by Jaimes Alsop, I think you will find this poet's story most engaging. I first learned of Bloomfield when Eric Robinson (the leading Clare scholar of recent times) telephoned me several months ago asking for help in getting Dr. Cochran's book published on the internet. Dr. Robinson had previously aided me with the Clare pages for The Susquehanna Quarterly, so I owed him one, which I was glad to repay once I saw and became fascinated by the Bloomfield story.
Here is one of two poems Clare wrote about Bloomfield. The note following is by Peter Cochran:
Sweet unassuming Minstrel not to thee
The dazzling fashions of the day belong
Natures wild pictures field and cloud and tree
And quiet brooks far distant from the throng
In murmurs tender as the toiling bee
Make the sweet music of thy gentle song
Well—nature owns thee let the crowd pass bye—
The tide of fashion is a stream too strong
For pastoral brooks that gently flow and sing
But nature is their source and earth and sky
Their annual offerings to her current bring
Thy injured muse and memory need no sigh
For thine shall murmur on to many a spring
When their proud stream is summer burnt and dry
There’s an element, even in Clare’s attitude, of something which Bloomfield was never without – condescension. For Clare, Bloomfield is one of Gray’s “mute inglorious Miltons,” except that he was gifted with a voice, and was glorious – or, at least, found a patron. (PC)
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