 | [Poems by Tabb in] Father Tabb |  |
THE PHANTOM WRAITH
When roars the wind and beats the rain,
A face before my window-pane—
A phantom of the storm—I see,
My own benighted effigy.
A face before my window-pane—
A phantom of the storm—I see,
My own benighted effigy.
So, when the spirit shuddereth
Before the mystery of Death
Perchance the shadow there portrayed
Is but its own reflected shade.
Before the mystery of Death
Perchance the shadow there portrayed
Is but its own reflected shade.
| [Poems by Tabb in] Father Tabb | |