The Mountain Cross | John Swain
Silver wolf, the mountain cross, useless behind the wolf, beauty you are married in the unknown. A stonepoint pierces your breast, your sharp white tooth a curse on me and everything you give. Mountain river golden with gold, the tree fall, brute you would kill, a kill the last weather will guard. Mountain lay upon the stranger, I am a guest to your capture, a site, the track into unknowing.