1. Home »
  2. American Poets »
  3. John Vance Cheney

Slain

by John Vance Cheney

John Vance Cheney

War met him, and fell pestilence,

Sore toil and want, all the dread foes of every day;

These he struck down, then went he hence,

Sent by a soft cat-thing that clawed him in her play.




Quotes of the Day

History shows us that when religion and science have a scuffle, religion either is reinterpreted, backs down, or is destroyed.
• Vascavus


Poems of the Day
  • Henry van Dyke
    The Old Flute
    by Henry van Dyke
    The time will come when I no more can play This polished flute: the stops will not obey My gnarled fingers; and the air it weaves In modulations, like a vine with leaves