Poem by John Vance Cheney

One

ONE whitest lily, reddest rose,
None other such the summer knows;
Of bird or brook one perfect tune,
And sung is all the sweet of June.
 
Once come and gone, the one dear face,
Forever empty is its place;
But one far voice the lover hears,
Calling across the waste of years.

1. Coyote
2. Somewhere
3. Lincoln
4. Evening Songs
5. The Parting of Ilmar and Haadin

Print

1248 Views

Last Poems

To Russian version