NO MORE.

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!”

‘ Mong heavy roses weighed with dew

The chirping crickets hid;

Down the honeysuckle avenue

Creaked the green katydid.

The scattered stars smiled thro’ the pines;

Thro’ stately windows draped with vines

The rising moonlight's silver blew.

He stared at lips proud, white, and dead,

A chiseled calm that wore;

Despair moaned on the lips that said

“To meet no more.”