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.

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.

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.

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.