Classic Poem

Clouds and tempests, get ye gone,
Hence, ye mists and every shadow,
Let field, valley, hill, and meadow
Shine with green as erst they shone.
Cold and frost we now may spurn,
Let soft vapours fill the air,
Grass be gay with flowers fair,
Gladness to the crops return;
All after their kind be seen
In their beauty and their brightness,
Flowers in their robe of whiteness,
And the Earth in vestment green,
Stolen away by winter keen.
Blest my triumph, that afar
Now irradiates the sky,
And in equal pleasure vie
All that of my kingdom are.
The God of lovers unto me
Entrusted has his keys and power
That at my bidding in this hour
The birds their psalms of love may sing.
And you heartless ones who see
I am here, bear this in mind —
This command of love I bring:
No friend of mine that heart shall be
That is cruel and unkind.