Poem by Danske Dandridge

The Phantom

A silent company of fears
Is keeping watch within my door
And dimly seen through foolish tears,
The fire-light flickers on the floor.
The wind is sweeping by amain
The elm-tree taps against the pane,
As though in friendly warning.
Behind my chair strange noises start
My heart cries out unto my heart.
"Would God that it were morning!"
I knew, I knew that It would come,
I feel its Presence in the room.
With sad reproachful eyes it stands
And lifts its weak, appealing hands.
Against my will, against my will.
O sad lost Love, you haunt me still. 

1. Telepathy
2. The Spirit of the Fall
3. Indian Summer
4. Wings
5. Beneath the Pines

Walter De la Mare The Phantom ("Wilt thou never come again")

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