by Myra Morris (1893-1966)

Come wind and come rain,
With drops on the pane,
With creak of old boughs that are thinning!
Come storms on the tide
That will keep me inside,
For I want to be on with my spinning!
Oh, joyous to spin
(Storm-cradled, shut-in),
With words that are magic and airy,
Songs racing and free
As the fast-flowing sea,
Or light as the laugh of a fairy!
Come wind and come rain!
It is vain, it is vain
In Summer to make a beginning,
But when Winter comes
With her storm-beaten drums,
Oh, I want to be on with my spinning!
~
Myra Morris, “Come wind and come rain!“, The Australian woman’s mirror, 21 Jul 1931: 14.
Image source: “Myra Morris,” The Australasian, 18 Feb 939: 42.