The Narrow Doors

Fannie Stearns Davis

The Wide Door into Sorrow
Stands open night and day.
With head held high and dancing feet
I pass it on my way.
I never tread within it,
I never turn to see
The Wide Door into Sorrow.
It cannot frighten me.
The Narrow Doors to Sorrow
Are secret, still, and low:
Swift tongues of dusk that spoil the sun
Before I even know.
My dancing feet are frozen.
I stare.  I can but see.
The Narrow Doors to Sorrow
They stop the heart in me.
— Oh, stranger than my midnights
Of loneliness and strife
The Doors that let the dark leap in
Across my sunny life!