ONE
by: John Vance Cheney (1848-1922)
 NE 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.
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"One" is reprinted from
The Little Book of American Poets. Ed. Jessie B. Rittenhouse.
Cambridge: The Riverside Press, 1915. |
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POEMS BY JOHN VANCE CHENEY |
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