To Myself Softly

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Inspired by an unexpectedly interesting conversation with a Boston cabbie who seemed to know a little too much.

Sir where may I drive you With your finery and trappings To the world renowned palace So high in the rankings And what do you do there For you plainly are princely I order activity Of circuits and machinery Now leave me to working While you do drive me I know where you hail from Of your far away kingdom How could you know it A mere village hackney The tales of your queen Are known in our country Does the queen tell you kindly That you're a fine scholar Have you known a lord To praise you a driver I sing my own praises To myself softly What wisdom I have That is enough for me Tell me now of the princess For whom shall she marry I know not who warrants There are too many vying Name the three manners That rise above others Philosophy bravery I can't name another Here is the palace The trip has passed quickly I hope to drive you Again if you need me I will sing your praises And I'll sing them loudly What wisdom you have That is enough for me

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