JOHN Clare penned this rural idyll - disturbed by the intrusion of a sprightly young woman - two centuries ago.

But the scenario, if not the girl's work, could belong to the present day.

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One gloomy eve I roamed about

'Neath Oxley's hazel bowers,

While timid hares were daring out,

To crop the dewy flowers;

And soothing was the scene to me,

Right placid was my soul,

My breast was calm as summer's sea

When waves forget to roll.

But short was even's placid smile,

My startled soul to charm,

When Nelly lightly skipt the stile,

With milk-pail on her arm:

One careless look on me she flung,

As bright as parting day;

And like a hawk from covert sprung,

It pounced my peace away.