The sweetness of the soft glass,
its waters steeping, wishing it
was faster. The fury of
the mad Bolton Strid, moving forth
and dashing, not dreaming once,
makes soft waters so envious.
The sweetness of the soft glass,
its waters steeping, wishing it
was faster. The fury of
the mad Bolton Strid, moving forth
and dashing, not dreaming once,
makes soft waters so envious.