Fylfot cross
WHEN twilight charms the sunset into dusk:
Black-veiled as any holy nun; The brides of love.
And the blowing brightness of innumerable flags.
Like wrath of midnight storms, sing in my blood.
Will take root below And fruit above!
Like a sliver of moonlight, When wind has broken the water;
Faith doth fearless dwell in brazen tower:
And spotless Pleasure builds sacred bower.
Like A COLD rain blurs the edges of the river.
Exquisite is the beauty Of the two-edged swords;
Like a woman in a bronze black shawl.
O, pope; O, strong hold; O, emperor; O, watch tower of the flock;
O, fylfot cross!
