Chapter 14
poem number fourteen of thirty american poems by various the moods by fanny stearns davis this liberbox recording is in the public domain reading by matt the moods the moods have laid their hands across my hair the moods have drawn their fingers through my heart my hair shall nevermore lie smooth and bright but stir like tide-worn seaweed and my heart shall nevermore be glad of small sweet things a wild rose or a crescent moon a book of little verses or a dancing child my heart turns crying from the rose and book my heart turns crying from the thin bright moon and weeps with useless sorrow for the child the moods have loosed a wind to vex my hair and made my heart too wise that was a child now i shall blow like smitten candle flame i shall desire all things that may not be the years the stars the souls of ancient men all tears that must and smiles that may not be
yes glimmering lights across a windy ford and vagrant voices on a darkened plain and holy things and outcast things and things far too remote frail body to be plain my pity and my joy are grown alike i cannot sweep the strangeness from my heart the moods have laid swift hands across my hair the moods have drawn swift fingers through my heart end of poem this recording is in the public domain
