If subject turns on lord to fight,
my ties to others are no guide;
when right and wrong stand side by side,
I cannot choose but to do right.
The debt I owe my sovereign's might
is more profound than fabric dyed
deep red, than twice-dyed red, more wide
than piles of gems, ten thousand, bright.
No course is open for me now;
no choice is possible to make,
for all the loyalty I feel.
It now seems best to me to bow
and simply to request you take
my head, O Father, where I kneel.
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