John Vance Cheney

I question not if thrushes sing,
If roses load the air;
Beyond my heart I need not read more

I question not if thrushes sing,
If roses load the air;
Beyond my heart I need not reach
When all is summer there.

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 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.

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.

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.