by John Vance Cheney (1848 - 1922)

Language: English 
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!

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Researcher for this page: Nich Roehler

This text was added to the website: 2012-05-20
Line count: 8
Word count: 48