The cloud in the west would bring foul weather.
And Maud forgot her briar torn gown,
And her graceful ankles bare and brown;
And listened, while a pleased surprise
Looked from her long-lashed hazel eyes.
At last, like one who for delay
Seeks a vain excuse, he rode away.
Maud Müller looked and sighed—“Ah me!
That I the judge’s bride might be!
“He would dress me up in silks so fine,