Classic Poem

Bow to me, bow to me;
Follow me in my burning breath,
Which brings as the simoom destruction and death.
My spirit lives in the hectic glow
When I bid the life streams tainted flow
In the fervid sun's deep brooding beam
When seething vapours in volumes steam,
And they fall--the young, the gay--as the flower
'Neath the fiery wind's destructive power.
This day I have gotten a noble prize--
There was one who saw the morning rise,
And watched fair Cynthia's golden streak
Kiss the misty mountain peak,
But I was there, and my pois'nous flood
Envenomed the gush of the youth's warm blood.
They hastily bore him to his bed,
But o'er him death his swart pennons spread:
The skilled leech's art was vain,
Delirium revelled in each vein.