'Tis when the wits I have are gone
The finer powers appear;
The spirit of phantasy leads me on,
And gives my heart her cheer.
The all-licensed fool the mad king had
Was but the light of Lear,
His soul's familiar, motley clad,
That told him no lies here.
The finer powers appear;
The spirit of phantasy leads me on,
And gives my heart her cheer.
The all-licensed fool the mad king had
Was but the light of Lear,
His soul's familiar, motley clad,
That told him no lies here.
