in lands without kings
in lands without rain
there dwelt a great soothe
with his boxes of twain
a black box
a clear box
no boxes but mine
said the soothe
and the truth
it is mine
and remains
no man can know them
but some can divine them
by work of my lash
and by work of my riddle
they speak to the minds
but they matter most little
for tis I that control them
tis I that will hold them
tis I that decide them
and so it remains
at last came the time
shall the boxes revealed
forthwith and begaze them
but silence prevails
as no gazes were gazing
no awe was inspired
the soothe now a King
was alone in the spire
no kindred, no kindness
no subjects of fine
no fondness of word
nor fondness of mind
sadness beguiles Kings
great and Kings small
but the saddest is King
with no kingdom at all
in lands without rain
there dwelt a great soothe
with his boxes of twain
a black box
a clear box
no boxes but mine
said the soothe
and the truth
it is mine
and remains
no man can know them
but some can divine them
by work of my lash
and by work of my riddle
they speak to the minds
but they matter most little
for tis I that control them
tis I that will hold them
tis I that decide them
and so it remains
at last came the time
shall the boxes revealed
forthwith and begaze them
but silence prevails
as no gazes were gazing
no awe was inspired
the soothe now a King
was alone in the spire
no kindred, no kindness
no subjects of fine
no fondness of word
nor fondness of mind
sadness beguiles Kings
great and Kings small
but the saddest is King
with no kingdom at all
