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The Storm

The pale day died in the rain tonight,
And its hurrying ghost, the wind, goes by:
The mountains loom in their silent night,
And darkly frown at the sea and sky.

The petrel wings close to his surging home,
And stabs with a shriek the shuddering night:
The mad wave beckons with hands of foam
Dipped in the blood of the sea-tower's light.
So, in my heart, is a storm tonight,
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6/14/2021 6:51:05 PM # 1.0.0.623