The Pod Ponder.
THE POD PONDER; The wind blows awe in the darkest suite, Children of the mine drinks ore and cry, Oh! Mother crane why crave on the stoop. Looking at the brimstone, while the storm bear. Children of the mine still drink ore and cry I looked up on the mountain, the dew got pod I cried! Mother crane why crave on the stoop. Looking for the awe, the sea's got sore, Blood is the vine and bone's got stem, I ponder to render the matter assunder, But the children of the mine drinks ore and cry π’ I stock