I have a king who does not speak;

I have a king who does not speak;
So, wondering, thro` the hours meek
I trudge the day away, --
Half glad when it is night and sleep,
If, haply, thro` a dream to peep
In parlors shut by day.

And if I do, when morning comes,
It is as if a hundred drums
Did round my pillow roll.
And shouts fill all my childish sky,
And bells keep saying `victory`
From steeples in my soul!

And if I don`t, the little Bird
Within the Orchard is not heard,
And I omit to pray,
`Father, thy will be done` to-day,
For my will goes the other way,
And it were perjury!