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

138 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.