Classic Poem

There is a winter in the godless heart
More cold than that which creeps upon the year
That will not with the opening spring depart
But freezes on though summer's heats are near
Its blasts are words that chill the loving soul
Though heard in pleasing phrase or learned sound
Their killing breath nor thriple folds control
They pierce within though flesh & blood surround
How dead the heart whence drives the arrowy shower
The full blown rose hangs drooping at its breath
The bursting buds of promise feel its power
And fixed stand incased in icy death
And e'en the soul which Christ's warm tears fill
Its sleety accents falling thick can chill.