A prince of fools
Dauntless stands illusions wave,
That washes o'er this lonely knave.
The sun casts doldrums over me.
And death dances naked the sea.
Not a sound does pierce the lull,
Not a sight does spear the dull.
Not a breath of air brings tease,
Not a stir of air will ease.
What fancies must I really wed.
To kill the doldrums in my head.
To what blind faith must I pray.
To pacify the wind to play.
There seems no language of belief,
Can shed a drop of some relief.
I would the smallest crack of door.
To hear or see that evermore.
Be I the fool, to be or not,
Or just the fool that cooks this pot?
A prince of fools in search the sea,
That laughs a lock without a key.
God grant me that of idiots lease,
Or pity me, some petty peace.