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 happiest heart that ever beat Was in some quiet breast That found the common daylight sweet, And left to Heaven the rest. - John Vance Cheney
The happiest heart that ever beat Was in some quiet breast That found the common daylight sweet, And left to Heaven the rest.
- John Vance Cheney
The soul would have no rainbow had the eyes no tears. [So when you are crying remember also to anticipate and look for the rainbow.] - John Vance Cheney
The soul would have no rainbow had the eyes no tears. [So when you are crying remember also to anticipate and look for the rainbow.]
If so men's memories not a monument be, None shalt thou have. Warm hearts, and not cold stone, Must mark thy grave, or thou shalt lie, unknown. Marbl… - John Vance Cheney
If so men's memories not a monument be, None shalt thou have. Warm hearts, and not cold stone, Must mark thy grave, or thou shalt lie, unknown. Marbl…
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 … - John Vance Cheney
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 …
The message from the hedge-leaves, Heed it, whoso thou art; Under lowly eaves Lives the happy heart. - John Vance Cheney
The message from the hedge-leaves, Heed it, whoso thou art; Under lowly eaves Lives the happy heart.
The soul would have no rainbow had the eyes no tears. - John Vance Cheney
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, I make mine hour. - John Vance Cheney
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. - John Vance Cheney
I pour into the world the eternal streams Wan prophets tent beside, and dream their dreams.
I question not if thrushes sing, If roses load the air; Beyond my heart I need not reach When all is summer there. - John Vance Cheney
I question not if thrushes sing, If roses load the air; Beyond my heart I need not reach When all is summer there.
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