They could not tell me who should be my lord, br But I could read from every word they said br The common thought: Perhaps that lord was dead, br And only a story now and a wandering word. br How could I follow a word or serve a fable, br They asked me. `Here are lords a-plenty. Take br Service with one, if only for your sake, br Yet better be your own master if you're able.' br I would rather scour the roads, a masterless dog, br Than take such service, be a public fool, br Obstreperous or tongue-tied, a good rogue, br Than be with those, the clever and the dull, br Who say that lord is dead; when I can hear br Daily his dying whisper in my ear.