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24
MAUD.
VI.
1.
Morning arises stormy and pale,
No sun, but a wannish glare
In fold upon fold of hueless cloud,
And the budded peaks of the wood are bow'd
Caught and cuff'd by the gale:
I had fancied it would be fair.
2.
Whom but Maud should I meet
Last night, when the sunset burn'd
On the blossom'd gable-ends
