Lyrics:

Whether the throned monarch weareth the crown
Which I know not 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 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 heeded
Or doth the throstle sing 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 undiscovered 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 straightforward leadeth
The one of correct I have as until now not heeded any signs of
I have as until now not heeded any signs of