The Winds

by John Vance Cheney

John Vance Cheney

We move across the morning lake

Soon as the dawns begin,

The evening lamps of gold we break

When the stars are looking in.

We wake with morn, and forth we go,

We follow after day;

Like thoughts we wander to and fro,

Like dreams we pass away.

We help the brightness where it weaves

The hill his glittering crown;

We come among the valley leaves,

They flutter up and down.

We rouse at noon the sleepy reeds,

And they make melody;

We fret the meads, and set the weeds

A-swinging blissfully.

We linger where the roses are

When warmth and light are gone;

We take their sweet, and bear it far

To her whose cheek is wan.

We bring her wilding melody,

Beyond the singer's art;

Sweeter than in the summer tree

It trembles at her heart.

The living meet us, whither led,

We greet them as we blow;

We bend the grasses on the bed

Of them that never know.





Last updated January 14, 2019