A tenderly sense sat down upon the crown
makes way in a crimson pyre all risen on the rust of will
bold and bare oer the carcass of content

The lick of life's tongue cures its tickle to the nape of soul
plagued to the flare on a comets tail
shot thru the veil of nights surrender as some would have it
in the pale star light explored to the repertoire of truth

Taste mercifies the victory of stain
and teases itself to the cure of a mothers breast
sure and safely as the perils swine swap lots for paupers prince
and kings scavenging on the onset of deed by deliverance
made sound on the fright of the angels wing