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Lyrics of Love and Laughter THE WRAITH. AH me, it is cold and chill, And the fire sobs low in the grate, While the wind rides by on the hill, And the logs crack sharp with hate. And she, she is cold and sad As ever the sinful are, But deep in my heart I am glad For my wound and the coming scar. Oh, ever the wind rides by And ever the raindrops grieve; But a voice like a woman's sigh Says, "Do you believe, believe?" Ah, you were warm and sweet, Sweet as the May days be; Down did I fall at your feet, Why did you hearken to me? 66