Maxioms by John Vance Cheney
We look through gloom and storm-drift
Beyond the years:
The soul would have no rainbow
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We look through gloom and storm-drift
Beyond the years:
The soul would have no rainbow
Hard the eyes no tears.
No command of art,
No toil, can help you hear;
Earth's minstrelsy falls clear
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No command of art,
No toil, can help you hear;
Earth's minstrelsy falls clear
But on the listening heart.
I pour into the world the eternal streams
Wan prophets tent beside, and dream their dreams.
I pour into the world the eternal streams
Wan prophets tent beside, and dream their dreams.
The soul would have no rainbow had the eyes no tears.
The soul would have no rainbow had the eyes no tears.
