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Poetry Archives

A continuing selection of classic and contemporary poems.

Somewhere

John Vance Cheney

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!
Online text © 1998-2008 Poetry X. All rights reserved.
From The Little Book of Modern Verse | 1913
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