AND THE BLACK
ANGUS BOWED
A joyful field -
Up above, a spread,
A blanket of trees
Quilted rust, orange and red.
Before...a winding,
Country road,
Your typical setting,
Then a change of mode.
An Angus, black,
Grazed on grass clumps,
Cocked his head,
Startled by thumps
Of a band of brothers,
Marching as one,
The Dame's flag flying
To honor her Son.
"Viva!" They cried.
They cried without cease,
"Sancte Pie Decime...
Ora pro nobis!"
These few good men,
Their faith was not feigned,
Led by the Marines
Of the priesthood, ordained.
And the Angus stood still,
At the "Viva!" from the proud,
And that was the day
The black Angus head bowed.
ANGUS BOWED
A joyful field -
Up above, a spread,
A blanket of trees
Quilted rust, orange and red.
Before...a winding,
Country road,
Your typical setting,
Then a change of mode.
An Angus, black,
Grazed on grass clumps,
Cocked his head,
Startled by thumps
Of a band of brothers,
Marching as one,
The Dame's flag flying
To honor her Son.
"Viva!" They cried.
They cried without cease,
"Sancte Pie Decime...
Ora pro nobis!"
These few good men,
Their faith was not feigned,
Led by the Marines
Of the priesthood, ordained.
And the Angus stood still,
At the "Viva!" from the proud,
And that was the day
The black Angus head bowed.
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