And the lightning flickered his shimmering mail,—
Through the swirl and sweep of the rain and hail,
She seemed to hear him, who seemed to call,—
"Come hither, Maurine! the wild leaves fall!
"The wild leaves rustle, the wild leaves flee—
Come hither, Maurine, to the hollow tree!
"To the trysting tree, to the tree once green,
Come hither, Maurine! come hither, Maurine!"...
They found her closed in his armored arms—
Had he claimed his bride on that night of storms?