Read "Wings" by Fannie Stearns Davis online for free on Textopian. Full text with search, annotations, highlights, and AI-powered reading aids.
Take down your golden wings now from their hook behind the door. The wind comes calling from the west, and you must fly once more. Oh, mine are grown too old to fly, my crooked wings and gray, But yours are glad with ruffled gold, and you must fly away.
I found you far across the moors beneath a thorny-tree: The eyes of you were wide as stars above a breathless sea: But frail you were and faint you were, and nowise gay and glad Save for the leaping golden wings your slender shoulders had.