 | [Poems by Tabb in] Father Tabb |  |
224
“PEACE!”
A little warbler dead—
A muted melody
Of dimpled-notes that spread
Like circles on the sea:
A muted melody
Of dimpled-notes that spread
Like circles on the sea:
One whispered word to chill
The panting bosom warm,
And suddenly to still
The passion of the storm.
The panting bosom warm,
And suddenly to still
The passion of the storm.
| [Poems by Tabb in] Father Tabb | |