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. So, when the spirit shuddereth Before the mystery of Death, Perchance the shadow there portrayed Is but its own reflected shade. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ON ANOTHER'S SORROW, FR. SONGS OF INNOCENCE by WILLIAM BLAKE ON SEEING THE ELGIN MARBLES by JOHN KEATS THE HERITAGE by JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL SONNET: 65 by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE SNOW OR SNOWDROPS? by MATHILDE BLIND |