This’ll be wild. This’ll be milk. This’ll be prickled. This’ll seed, like silk. This’ll be Scottish. This’ll be a bee stop. This’ll feed finches. This’ll purple-pink top.

I have a hard shield and I can never part with it. If it breaks I might die. When I’m spooked I use it to hide.

I travel faster than sound, but acoustics are not as profound. If you blink for a moment you might think i've gone, but worry not, I'll be back by dawn.

Beastly leviathan from thunderous waves, crashing and thrashing sends men to their graves. Through day into night the lurid white whale writhes and contorts to no avail. By grit and resolve the monster is slain, but what kind of rod was thrown again?

I sleep in stone with silent might, a buried heart of darkest night. But wake me with the furnace flame, and I will bend yet stay the same. I help your blood, I build your blade - in earth and in the forge I'm made.