Fannie Stearns Davis Poems

Your friends shall be the Tall Wind,
The River and the Tree;
The Sun that laughs and marches,
The Swallows and the Sea.
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I am almost afraid of the wind out there.
The dead leaves skip on the porches bare,
The windows clatter and whine.
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The Wide Door into Sorrow
Stands open night and day.
With head held high and dancing feet
I pass it on my way.
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Full patiently the fisherman lay rocking, rocking, rocking;
Against his boat the little waves came knocking, knocking, knocking,
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I am all alone in the room.
The evening stretches before me
Like a road all delicate gloom
Till it reaches the midnight's gate.
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It is a little graveyard in a small island village, and it lies
between the blue harbor and the oyster-shell road ...
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The still, untroubled forest stirs.
The doves' nests in the deep black firs
Move and pulse and beat;
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My Soul goes clad in gorgeous things,
   Scarlet and gold and blue;
And at her shoulder sudden wings
   Like long flames flicker through.
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O brown brook, O blithe brook, what will you say to me
If I take off my heavy shoon and wade you childishly?

   O take them off, and come to me.
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Sitteth by the red cairn a brown One, a hoofed One,
High upon the mountain, where the grasses fail.
...