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My Fancies

by John Vance Cheney

John Vance Cheney

The winds are faint; the leaves, not sure they blow,

Fall slumbering as they flutter to and fro.

So, drowsy fancies, out of dream you start,

To fall asleep again upon my heart.




Quotes of the Day

Good poetry seems too simple and natural a thing that when we meet it we wonder that all men are not always poets. Poetry is nothing but healthy speech

• Henry David Thoreau



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