Top 11 Quotes & Sayings by John Vance Cheney

Explore popular quotes and sayings by an American poet John Vance Cheney.
Last updated on November 7, 2024.
John Vance Cheney

John Vance Cheney was an American poet, essayist and librarian. Educated in Geneseo, New York, Cheney practiced law briefly in Woodstock, Vermont and New York City before moving to California with his first wife Abigail Perkins Vance Cheney, teaching music, lecturing, and working as a postal clerk. In 1887 he assumed the position of librarian of the Free Public Library of San Francisco, where he oversaw the openings of the system's first branch libraries and hosted the first west coast conference of the American Library Association in 1891. In 1894 he moved to Chicago, where he served as librarian of the Newberry Library. In 1909 he retired and moved to San Diego with his second wife, Sara Barker Chamberlain.

I question not if thrushes sing, If roses load the air; Beyond my heart I need not reach When all is summer there.
The happiest heart that ever beat Was in some quiet breast That found the common daylight sweet, And left to Heaven the rest.
No command of art,
No toil, can help you hear;
Earth's minstrelsy falls clear
But on the listening heart. — © John Vance Cheney
No command of art, No toil, can help you hear; Earth's minstrelsy falls clear But on the listening heart.
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 the happy heart.
If so men's memories not a monument be, None shalt thou have. Warm hearts, and not cold stone, Must mark thy grave, or thou shalt lie, unknown. Marbles keep not themselves; how then, keep thee?
The soul would have no rainbow had the eyes no tears.
I pour into the world the eternal streams Wan prophets tent beside, and dream their dreams.
The soul would have no rainbow had the eyes no tears. [So when you are crying remember also to anticipate and look for the rainbow.]
A breath, whence no man knows, Swaying the grating weeds, it blows; It comes, it grieves, it goes. Once it rocked the summer rose.
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.
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