The Enemies

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Title:     The Enemies
Author: John Freeman [More Titles by Freeman]

The angry wind
That cursed at me
Was nothing but an evil sprite
Vexed with any man's delight.

And strange it seemed
That a dark wind
Should run down from a mountain steep
And shout as though the world were asleep.

But when he ceased
And silence was--
Who could but fear what evil sprite
Crept through the tunnels of the night?

[The end]
John Freeman's poem: Enemies

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