John Vance Cheney

The wind is awake, pretty leave, pretty leaves,
Heed not what he says, he deceives, he deceives;
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The wind is awake, pretty leave, pretty leaves,
Heed not what he says, he deceives, he deceives;
Over and over
To the lowly clover
He has lisped the same love (and forgotten it, too).
He will be lisping and pledging to you.

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.

The soul would have no rainbow had the eyes no tears.

The soul would have no rainbow had the eyes no tears.

Holding occasion by the hand,
Not over nice 'twixt weed and flower,
Waiving what none can understand,
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Holding occasion by the hand,
Not over nice 'twixt weed and flower,
Waiving what none can understand,
I make mine hour.