Crowned with the sickle, and wheaten sheaf, While Autumn, nodding oer the yellow plain, Comes jovial on.
Crowned with the sickle, and wheaten sheaf, While Autumn, nodding oer the yellow plain, Comes jovial on.
An earnest conjuration from the King,
As England was his faithful tributary,
As love between them like the palm might flourish,
As peace should still her wheaten garland wear
And stand a comma 'tween their amities,
And many such-like as's of great charge,
That, on the view and knowing of these contents,
Without debatement further, more or less,
He should the bearers put to sudden death,
Not shriving time allow'd.
© 2020 Inspirational Stories
© 2020 Inspirational Stories