Our Jocky, who art in High Lands, "Hallo!-ed" be thy name.
Thy serfs are here.
Thy will be large, e'en not upon a horse.
Protect our mead, thus we are content.
We've no faults, so forgiveness can only be for themselves.
Please, please, please, tempt me, tempt me, tempt me, lord,
for I too wish to fall from my horse.
Amen



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In the great pantheon of poetry that one is right up there with the best.




