John Clare’s “Market Day” follows a farmer riding his old, weather-beaten horse to the fair, both of them locked in an unhurried rhythm nothing can disturb. The farmer is bundled tight in a great coat, hat slouched low, his face red as the sunrise. A brindled dog snuffs and barks at their heels, but even that won’t quicken their steady jog. The poem lingers on these wintry, worn details with obvious fondness—the ribbed nag, the switching tail, the man’s chuffy cheeks. After the day’s trading and a rack of hay for Dobbin, the farmer hoarsely toasts his good corn, claps the horse’s hide, and potters home. There’s no drama here, just a deep, quiet pleasure in a simple routine. The mood is cozy and warmly nostalgic, as if the speaker is smiling at the scene, charmed by the stubborn pace and the easy companionship between the old farmer and his faithful horse.
Market Day — Summary
With arms and legs at work and gentle stroke That urges switching tail nor mends his pace, On an old ribbed and weather beaten horse, The farmer goes jogtrotting to the fair. Both keep their pace that nothing can provoke Followed by brindled dog that snuffs the ground With urging bark and hurries at his heels. His hat slouched down, and great coat buttoned close Bellied like hooped keg, and chuffy face Red as the morning sun, he takes his round And talks of stock: and when his jobs are done And Dobbin's hay is eaten from the rack, He drinks success to corn in language hoarse, And claps old Dobbin's hide, and potters back.