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"MY DEARLING."
"MY DEARLING."
Y Dearling!—thus, in days long fled,In spite of creed and court and queen,
King Henry wrote to Anne Boleyn,—
The dearest pet name ever said,
And dearly purchased, too, I ween!
Poor child! she played a losing game:
She won a heart,—so Henry said,—
But ah! the price she gave instead!
Men's hearts, at best, are but a name:
She paid for Henry's with her head!
She won a heart,—so Henry said,—
But ah! the price she gave instead!
Men's hearts, at best, are but a name:
She paid for Henry's with her head!
You count men's hearts as something worth
Not I: were I a maid unwed,
I'd rather have my own fair head
Than all the lovers on the earth,
Than all the hearts that ever bled!
Not I: were I a maid unwed,
I'd rather have my own fair head
Than all the lovers on the earth,
Than all the hearts that ever bled!
"My Dearling!" with a love most true,
Having no fear of creed or queen,
I breathe that name my prayers between
But it shall never bring to you
The hapless fate of Anne Boleyn!
Having no fear of creed or queen,
I breathe that name my prayers between
But it shall never bring to you
The hapless fate of Anne Boleyn!
