THE SIMPLE Bard, unbroke by rules of art,
He pours the wild effusions of the heart;
And if inspir’d ’tis Nature’s pow’rs inspire;
Her’s all the melting thrill, and her’s the kindling fire.
by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
I called to the wind of the Winter,
As he sped like a steed on his way,
"Oh! rest for awhile on thy journey,
And answer these questions, I pray.
"Who is the foe to all virtue,