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Crown
A wakeful morning - animals stirring,
All life about the spread and sound of falls,
A country land of dreamy morning calls,
In branches lies a predator with wings
Of all he rules except himself as king.
He hunts the fowl the hares and other thralls
He coasts above the clouds and squalls,
In day he rules as king aloft of spring
The land below is but his keep,
In years all passed his nest has riddled hask,
And beating wings become a weary task,
He dons his courage last and makes his leap.
His cry he left alone inside his cask,
All watch his last ascent and weep
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