The Little Sister by Dora Sigerson Shorter

The wind knocks at the window,
⁠And my heart is full of fear.
For I know when it is calling
⁠That some evil thing is near.

It whispers in the chimney,
⁠And I strike the log to name,
Lest it come down and take me
⁠To the land that hath no name.

For once I had a sister,
⁠Who now am left alone,
And here we sat together,
⁠When the wind did sigh and moan«.

There came a gentle knocking
⁠Quick and sudden at the door.
And my sister hushed my terror.
⁠Saying, “’Tis the wind, a-stór!”

She took my arms from round her,
⁠She kissed me, cheek and chin,
But I cried, “Oh, little sister.
⁠Do not let the robber in!”

She rose up from me laughing,
⁠But her face was strange and white.
And she opened wide the window,
⁠Looking long into the night.
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.