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149

XXIX.—PINES IN STORM.

Hark! like a wild and furious sea
Where the bleak send and driving spray
Harrow the dying face of day
A sound swells up tumultuously!
Amongst the pines the tempest dwells,
And swells and moans, and moans and swells.
Each pine, like some sad spirit, cries
Stricken and weary 'neath drear skies.