O Winter what a deadly foe Art thou unto the mean & low What thousands now half-pind & bare Are forcd to stand thy piercing air All day neer numb’d to death wi’ cold Some petty Gentry to uphold Paltry proudlings hard as thee Dead to all humanityO the weathers cold & snow Cutting winds that round me blow But much more the killing scorn O the day that I was born Friendless — poor as I can be Struck wi’ death o’ povertyFollow me for daily #JohnClare postings#poetry #environment #honesty