Noble scepter …
What shepherd’s staff
Sprouted gold to make you proud?
Exalted crown!
Were you not once
Bloody horns torn from mighty beasts?
Hand-sewn robes,
With soft-silk lining,
Replaced your coarse, Lion’s skin.
Pomp & majesty
Brighten your path,
Where sheep’s dung & dust past fell.
Who knows what dreams
Your grandeur brings —
Weaned from humble fields & bramble roads.
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