John Vance Cheney

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.

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

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

A breath, whence no man knows,
Swaying the grating weeds, it blows;
It comes, it grieves, it read more

A breath, whence no man knows,
Swaying the grating weeds, it blows;
It comes, it grieves, it goes.
Once it rocked the summer rose.

The message from the hedge-leaves,
Heed it, whoso thou art;
Under lowly eaves
Lives read more

The message from the hedge-leaves,
Heed it, whoso thou art;
Under lowly eaves
Lives the happy heart.