Fannie Stearns Davis

Your friends shall be the Tall Wind,
The River and the Tree;
The Sun that laughs and marches,
The Swallows and the Sea.
...

I am almost afraid of the wind out there.
The dead leaves skip on the porches bare,
The windows clatter and whine.
...

The Wide Door into Sorrow
Stands open night and day.
With head held high and dancing feet
I pass it on my way.
...

Full patiently the fisherman lay rocking, rocking, rocking;
Against his boat the little waves came knocking, knocking, knocking,
...

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.
...

It is a little graveyard in a small island village, and it lies
between the blue harbor and the oyster-shell road ...
...

The still, untroubled forest stirs.
The doves' nests in the deep black firs
Move and pulse and beat;
...

My Soul goes clad in gorgeous things,
   Scarlet and gold and blue;
And at her shoulder sudden wings
   Like long flames flicker through.
...

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.
...

Sitteth by the red cairn a brown One, a hoofed One,
High upon the mountain, where the grasses fail.
...

Home, to the hills and the rough, running water;
Home, to the plain folk and cold winds again.
Oh, I am only a gray farm's still daughter,
...

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.
...

'Leave all and follow - follow!'
Lure of the sun at dawn,
Lure of a wind-paced hollow,
Lure of the stars withdrawn;
...

The Moods have laid their hands across my hair:
The Moods have drawn their fingers through my heart;
...

Up a hill and a hill there's a sudden orchard slope,
And a little tawny field in the sun,
...

The Wind bows down the poplar trees,
The Wind bows down the crested seas;
And he has bowed the heart of me
Under his hand of memory.
...