Page:The Collected Poems of Dora Sigerson Shorter.djvu/157

And I said, “Oh, little sister,
    There is on your cheek a tear!”
“'Tis but the rain,” she whispered;
    But my heart was full of fear.

And I said, “Oh, little sister.
    There's a hand upon the door.”
Soft she chid me from my crying,
    Saying, “'Tis the wind, a-stór.”

And turning from me smiling.
    She took down the bar and chain,
But her cheek was like the lily
    As she went into the rain.

And I said, “Oh, little sister,
    Will you then return no more?”
But I only heard the pushing
    Of the wind upon the door.

Long I cried, “Oh, little sister.
    Will you soon come back again?”
But I only heard the beating
    Of the storm upon the pane.

Now my mother sits in sorrow,
    Weeping all the livelong day;
And I think she dreads the robber
    Who did take her child away.

So I put up bar and shutter
    When the wind goes howling by.
For I know when it comes knocking
    That some evil thing is nigh.