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Inside the Mount’s trunk, aggrace’d source of life

Untapped, empyreal enigma

Delitable archway unseen by those who fobbed their sept

Peris and fays of holt, Sprites in nacreous robes

Hid the secret well my belamy

The sheltron that ne’er fails, ne’er fades nor ends

Pansophy, prudency, theopneust instruments

The God-given deodates to his dear-worthiest folk

His wit, his sentence and his lore

Pierceable into Nature page’s core

His offering made way

But servants know they went so low

And evil gropes, premeditates

Out of doubt, it shan’t move in nonchalance

Manly creatures

The means for the nonce

Mal-engine and machination

In evil’s name they shall arise anon

Transmewing guiler’s destination

Ossifrages with their wings wide open

Gyrfalcons and goshawks’ little token

Their flying from seas to mounts

Ongoing dolor reflected in their eyes

Compeers of conseil old, raised on skies

A long lament in languorous sounds

Manly beings and beasts

Insalubrious instruments

The curious confused, the peccables amazed

The pious inapt to prosper

Evil outbreaks gave ‘em cause to doubt

They’ve gone amiss