Enclosure came and trampled on the grave
Of labours rights, and left the poor a slave

Fence now meets fence, in owners little bounds
Of field and meadow large, as garden grounds
In little parcels little minds to please
With men and flocks imprisoned, ill at ease

Each little tyrant, with his little sign
Shows where man claims earth grows no more divine
On paths to freedom, and to childhood dear
A board sticks up to notice: ‘no road here’

- John Clare