I.

The slanted storm tossed at their feet The frost-nipped Autumn leaves; The park's high pines were caked with sleet And ice-spears armed the eaves. They strolled adown the pillared pines To part where wet and twisted vines About the gate-posts flapped and beat. She watched him dimming in the rain Along the river's misty shore, And laughed with lips that sneered disdain "To meet no more!"