In the early dawn A shout is seen As the moon is falling, Tawny birds blithely dart In the scarlet tangles Of your heart, always escape Yet never so parading past The topped prime colours Of bleeding eyes uncovered, All the fields and clearing Woods have cordoned Themselves, beyond Your glorious boundaries, In the knotted, noble trials Of briar and serrated leaf, Green trails ply angled thorns Leading to one ****** crown.