Today I’d been searching for suffering,
And soon I’d discovered shimmering gold,
Though sharp it was on discovering,
It quickly did what my forge told.
While I fashioned your glittering crown
I cleared away a gnarled thorn,
Which by its very nature didst frown,
Before it agreed it could be reborn.
Now, always, that thorn is ever a jewel,
For men nor jewels can forget what they’ve seen:
That the head and the crown as one is the rule,
So too the head recalled all it had been!
And now I’ve included many gems of sweet hue,
It only makes sense your head fits on you.