Unrelenting in his fire,
The sun's a lion, the Balts do say.
Living in the cloudy North,
How did they know our every day?

It is a Christian image too:
Roaring stillborn cubs to life,
The lion stands for resurrection
And freedom from our mortal strife.

But for myself, I'd Heaven find
In my lady's voice, and in her face.
No angel has a sweeter touch,
No goddess is more full of grace.

As she to me, there is another
Who inspires our Barony:
With gentle words and kindly smiles
Eloise wakens poetry.

Forget the sun, forget the moon,
Forswear the lion's majesty!
By her inborn gracious arts,
Eloise revives our hearts.

a.d. IV Id. Nov. 2754
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