Kings stride through the golden Straw in ornate Raiment,
Under human Plants with plenteous Fruits that pump Blood.
From afar blurred Tales led them to where the Heart hangs,
And Barks groan peculiar Tunes while Crowns adorn the Sand.
Her Vessels smile blue as Emperors creep
In searing Woe that Ardour bears.
Undressed by Passion they adore
Until arboreal Sculptures stay.
Myriad Sovereigns weep within these Trees,
Nourished on their Pain her Beauty flames.
Attired in my royal Scarcloak (I walk through the Meadow)
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