THLaird Colyne Stewart, December AS 49 (2014)
A martyr for her children
Mother bird sits atop her nest
And feeds her young her gushing blood
Pouring forth from her pierced breast
And like this bird a mother bear
In cave cares for her cubs newborn
Protects them from the wind and rain
From talon, claw and ripping thorn
She leads through drought, the arid heat,
Through storm and sleet and tempest gale
And shoulders through the snowy drifts
To keep her young all well and hail
Like a winged snail she is a home
Who welcomes in her loving brood
Her brood the people of the land
Being the high born and the crude
Her sacrifice and toil find
Favoured grace in the royal eyes
And wolfen rulers call to her
And praise her virtues to the skies
Christiana, bear, recognized
For deeds well done and reckoned true
Named a Peer of the northern land
Whose many toils were not yet through.
A ballad.
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