Baa baa, black sheep,
Have you any wool?
Yes, sir. yes, sir,
Three bags full;
One for the master,
And one for the dame,
And one for the little boy
Who lives down the lane.

Two for my master,
One for my dame,
None for the little boy
That cries in the lane.

This rhyme was carried through to our time by the Ottawans, or Humans as they call themselves.
Doubtless their scholars have their own history and interpretation of it, but any learned yak must admit that it is clearly a composition of a scion of the Fifth Race.
To begin, we recognise the struggle of Beasts in the Unvoiced World in its form.
Elders kept in (I beg my esteemed reader to permit this obscenity) _mutton_ farms were denied from writing.
Moreover, many farmers would treat (and mis-treat) their crops and earth with various Ottawan technologies, in the process destroying most means of recording information in soils through the applied Meadowlark.
Rhymes such as these were developed to ease the memorisation of sacred or otherwise important texts, and could by very skilled Elders be transmitted to Ottawan children.
In this way, texts were seeded into Ottawan minds, and cultivated by Elders, so that after centuries Beasts would hear Ottawans singing the same songs. 

The Meadowlark provides, dear reader.
At times the Hierarchy can be slow, and only focus on keeping pastures green so we may feed.
But the pasture of ideas is just as important, and through these techniques Beasts survived Ottawan rule.

What of the contents of the rhyme, you may be wondering.
A recent essay by my learned colleagues in the employ of the Ennearch of Wisdom have posited that the wool here represents the unyielding Meadowlark of stalk and bone.
Their argument rests on two pillars (stalks?): first, the correlation of shapes of hair fibres and stalks and second, the unyielding, well-established strength of yak hair.
Neither stands up to scrutiny.
The wool grown by Elders is of course quite different to that grown by yaks, and in Ottawan industry it is Elder (specifically sheep) wool that is preferred for textiles.
It is explicitly a black sheep in the rhyme, and sheep hair, as is evident after even brief observation, is curly, rather unlike stalk or bone, and so the shape argument is meritless.
And the strength of hair is hardly relevant to the actual content of the unyielding Meadowlark, which governs the growth of pastures and the health of soil.
Simply put, hair is strong, but hardly unyielding, and all the better for it!
How hard it would be to walk with hair that was truly unyielding.

I propose an alternate reading.
The wool represents the celestial Meadowlark, of sky and skin.
Most commonly, hair covers, and does not support structures.
It is this obvious meaning that whichever captive Elder first penned this rhyme would have expected his uneducated audience to understand.
We should be loath to let our own education blind us to the obvious!
And equally important, the wool itself is not the Meadowlark.
The Meadowlark is the skin that produces the wool, so the bag of wool represents the effects and gift of the celestial Meadowlark.
Consider the Ottawan: Elders gift their wool so the Ottawan may stay warm and clothe itself from the cold wind, but they do not have the power to make this wool without us.

The three bags are similarly obvious.
It goes without saying that three signifies the Tripartition of the Hidden Lands.
We must then understand the correspondence between the three parties of the Voice, Beast, Dwarf and Bird, and the three parties in the rhyme: Master, Dame and Little Boy.
One might object here, for the Meadowlark itself belongs to the Beasts alone, so it cannot be that a portion of the celestial Meadowlark belongs to Bird or Dwarf.
But we cannot be too haughty.
Even among the most capable Practicants in the Hierarchy, the celestial Meadowlark is entirely inaccessible.
But we still live with its wool, its effects, in the form of the shapes of the hills and farmland.
For the Emperor Yakob used the celestial Meadowlark to carve the Temple of the Rock, and shaped the waters around the Haven.

And if this is an allegorical history of the Emperor, the remainder of the correspondence falls into place.
The Emperor talked of his people as his great love, so his Dame must be the Beasts.
When the Emperor was finally convinced to abandon his quest to unite the Hidden Lands, he surrendered twice to the dwarves, first the Border Dwarves who had initially followed him, secondly to the Dwarves of Mountberg who ran from his army.
Much land was conceded back to the Dwarves, including the Temple, and to this day the Temple lies within the Dwarf Threding, leaving them the Master of the Emperor's pride.
And finally, the Aery, small as they are in relation to Beasts, must be the Little Boy.
Even in the old days, the Aery remained far removed from the affairs of Beast or Dwarf, and thus, they "lived down the lane".

So what does it mean to have given them wool, and does this rhyme simply mourn the Emperor's final defeat?
Hardly, dear reader.
This rhyme is a reminder to persist after defeat.
The Elder who wrote it did so to ensure a message of hope persisted among the captive Beasts living in Ottawa.
The "Master"―the Dwarves―still relied on the celestial Meadowlark.
They could not have carved the Temple alone.
Even the mountains in the Dwarf Threding were carved by yaks, as told in the tale of the First Compact.
The Lord of the Mountain, who had all Three Voices, used the celestial Meadowlark to make Mountberg and the rest of the Dwarf rock habitable.
The close relationship between the Dwarves and the Ottawans must not be forgotten here:
The Dwarves are their cousins, cousins of the Fourth Race.

So this rhyme finds its interpretation.
It is a history of the Emperor's fall.
The Empire was shattered, and given to Dwarven masters.
But the gift given by the Emperor, using the celestial Meadowlark to shape the Earth that made up this Empire, persists.
Dwarves who would gloat over taking control of the Temple must instead live in a reminder of the Emperor's power.
Even the Birds have benefited from the celestial Meadowlark, and no matter how much they flee, are still bound to us by their debt.
And the Beasts who remain in Ottawa, upon hearing this rhyme should remember the old stories, should know that the power of the Meadowlark remains theirs.