Holding occasion by the hand, Not over nice 'twixt weed and flower, Waiving what none can understand, I make mine hour. — John Vance Cheney Copy Share Image
The message from the hedge-leaves, Heed it, whoso thou art; Under lowly eaves Lives the happy heart. — John Vance Cheney Copy Share
I pour into the world the eternal streams Wan prophets tent beside, and dream their dreams. — John Vance Cheney Copy Share
The soul would have no rainbow had the eyes no tears. [So when you are crying remember also to anticipate and look for the… — John Vance Cheney Copy Share
A breath, whence no man knows, Swaying the grating weeds, it blows; It comes, it grieves, it goes. Once it rocked the summer rose. — John Vance Cheney Copy Share
Holding occasion by the hand, Not over nice 'twixt weed and flower, Waiving what none can understand, I make mine hour. — John Vance Cheney Copy Share
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 Copy Share
The wind is awake, pretty leave, pretty leaves, Heed not what he says, he deceives, he deceives; Over and over To the lowly clover… — John Vance Cheney Copy Share
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… — John Vance Cheney Copy Share
No command of art, No toil, can help you hear; Earth's minstrelsy falls clear But on the listening heart. — John Vance Cheney Copy Share
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 Copy Share
