Jingles!

I am brass coloured born from shine's metal,
I am mass cornered grown from shrine's temple.

I sway with the touch of cooly breezes warmth,
Yet I fray with the touch of holy breezes warmth.

With priest's divine chants aura and
With feast's sanguine grants flora thine merry leaped to peak.

Hung from red chain in a sloppy way from cow's neck,
Rung from dread pain in a ropy way from sow's heck.

Passing through the woods I alarm my mate with jingling notes,
Crossing through the woods I disarm my mates with tingling dotes.

Grown at solitary bliss with boundless glory,
Finally frown at monetary miss with mindless fury.