Classic Poem

So have I seen three poplars young and fair,
By winding stream their leafy branches spread,
Gayly they flourish'd to the gladsome air,
And in the pride of youth they bourgeoned,
In spring's own liv'ry all apparrelled:
Lo! sturdy woodman comes with treach'rous steel,
Ne friend to beauty, ne to bounty-head,
His keen relentless weapon they must feel,
And be transmew'd to mast, or spoke of circling wheel.