Few are the mornings that harbor a timeless fortune
Wreathed in the promise of a golden dawn.
A growing splendor moaning about the waking badlands
streams atop the opening gates whose gleam feins
Among the unspoiled meadow of my soveirgnty.
A somber valley forlorn in an endless botany has
Blessed the partisan to an eternal muse.
Gleam among the unspoiled meadow my soverign eye