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Poem by John Vance Cheney Somewhere THE WEASEL thieves in silver suit, The rabbit runs in gray; And Pan takes up his frosty flute To pipe the cold away. The flocks are folded, boughs are bare, The salmon take the sea; And O my fair, would I somewhere Might house my heart with thee! John Vance Cheney John Vance Cheney's other poems: Poems of the other poets with the same name: 1235 Views |
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