Classic Poem

Oh snow that comes
When violets ought to bloom!
Oh thunderous drums
That lead men to the tomb!

Oh doleful robin,
Come from warmer climes!
Oh wretched bobbin',
Suiting alone my rhymes!
Oh heat that vainly strives
To dry up mud!
Oh myriad of young and happy lives,
Untimely quenched by rebel hands in blood.

So must the virtuous look
To higher spheres,
Although the little brook
Be swelled with tears!