Lyrics To These Words I Beheld No Tongue - Theatre Of Tragedy

To These Words I Beheld No Tongue

Whether the thoned Monarch weareth the crown,
Which I know not whether to his belongeth;
Doth he hence the sceptre sway?
Seasoneth he justice?
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Daresay I he doth not,
Will he then use his sceptre as a wand?
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Where doth sit my awe?
— Trieth me conjure;
Perchance a spell?;
a reptile, a sullied hound?
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Is the gentle rain a quality of his?
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I bethink this fro my thoughts;
hitherto, about this,
I beheld to these words no tongue;
are the
Monarchs’s men his thralls or his servants?
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Oft I waylay my tongue —
Those of which are withal by my gnarled heart not heed’d;
Or doth the trostle sing with more glee
At daybreak than a twilight?
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Brawl not my imp, nor my cherub;
reserve my judgement —
Crave not the sword when the bodkin fro ere thine is;
That undiscover’d country;
be that
Of calamity, be that of joy, be that of apathy;
Tread not paths of new when those of old are
Far by an only single footstep;
walk, be it
On the left, on the right — be it the one which
Straight forward leadeth, the one of correct
I have as until now not heed’d any signs of!