To these Words I beheld no Tongue

Soliloquy by Raymond, Music by Theatre of Tragedy 

Whether the throned Monarch weareth the crown,
Which I know not whether to his belongeth;
Doth he hence the sceptre sway? Seasoneth he justice? -
Daresay I he doth not, will he then use his sceptre
As a wand? - Where doth sit my awe? - Trieth he me conjure;
Perchance a spell?; a reptile, a sullied hound? -
Is the gentle rain a quality of his? - I bethink
This fro my thoughts; hitherto, about this,
I beheld to these words no tongue; are the
Monarch's men his thralls or his servants? -
Oft I waylay my tongue -
Those of which are withal by my gnarled heart
Not heed'd; or doth the throstle sing with more glee
At daybreak than at twilight? - 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!

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