Classic Poem

G AYLY the wind sings through the wires,
Touching the chords with fingers light;
Singing of love and its sweet desires
To the maid who listens with fond delight.

Sadly it sways the trembling lines,
Waking a plaintive song of woe;
Breaking a heart that wearily pines
For the music of hope that was long ago.

Singing to each a well-known strain
Caught from the keynote in every mind:
Oh, sings it for me of peace or pain,
This harp that sways in the winter wind?

What message carries the lightning slave
Over the mountains, under the sea?
And this the answer the ticker gave:
" Wheat is quiet at 83! "