The Grand Seigneur
To the hut of the peasant, or lordly hall,
To the heart of the king, or humblest thrall,
Sooner or late, love comes to all,
And it came to the Grand Seigneur, my dear,
It came to the Grand Seigneur.
The robins were singing a roundelay,
And the air was sweet with the breath of May,
As a horseman rode thro' the forest way,
And he was a Grand Seigneur, my dear,
He was a grand Seigneur.
Lord of the Manor, Count Bellefontaine,
Had spurr'd over many a stormy plain
With gallants of France at his bridle rein,
For he was a brave Cavalier, my dear--
He was a brave Cavalier.
But the huntsman's daughter, La Belle Marie,
Held the Knight's proud heart in captivity,
And oh! she was fair as the fleur de lys,
Tho' only a peasant maid, my dear,
Only a peasant maid.
Thro' the woodland depths on his charger grey
To the huntsman's cottage he rides away,
And the maiden lists to a tale to-day
That haughtiest dame might hear, my dear,
That haughtiest dame might hear.
But she cried 'Alas! it may never be,
For my heart is pledged to the young Louis,
And I love him, O Sire, so tenderly,
Tho' he's only a poor Chasseur, my Lord,
Only a poor Chasseur.'
'Enough,' spake the Knight with a courtly bow,
'Be true to thy lover and maiden vow,
For virtue like thine is but rare, I trow,
And farewell to my dream of love, and thee,
Farewell to my dream of thee.'
And they say the gallant Count Bellefontaine
Bestowed on the couple a rich domain,
But you never may hear such tale again,
For he was a Grand Seigneur, my dear,
He was a Grand Seigneur!
poem by William Henry Drummond
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Related quotes
Psaume CXXI
Levavi oculos meos in montes.
Sur le haut des monts, çà et là regardant,
J'ai levé mes yeux, si secours me viendrait,
Mon secours me vient du Seigneur, qui fit les
Terres et les cieux.
Il ne souffrira le Seigneur, que ton pied
Bronche faux marchant. Il ne dormira pas
Lui qui est ton garde : il ne dormira pas
Non, ni ne prendra
Nul sommeil, lui, lui vigilant qui vient seul
Israël garder. Le Seigneur te gardra :
Voire il t'ombrera le Seigneur ; à ta droite
Il se tiendra.
Les rayons ardents du Soleil de plein jour,
Ni de nuit la lune, n'iront t'offenser ;
Ains de tout danger, le Seigneur te gardra :
L'âme il te gardra.
Quand dehors sortir du dedans tu voudras,
Quand dedans rentrer du dehors tu viendras,
Il te gardera le Seigneur désormais
Partout et toujours.
poem by Jean Antoine de Baif
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Psaume VI
Sire, en ton courroux ne me viens convaincre du forfait :
Non ne me viens châtier en ta bouillante fureur.
Miséricorde de moi, Seigneur, car faible je languis.
Ô, guéris moi, Seigneur : j'ai tous mes os étonnés.
Même mon âme se trouble de peur, tremblante dedans moi
Fort étonnée. Mais toi Sire jusques à quand ?
Change d'avis, et te tourne, Seigneur : mon âme délivrant,
Sauf du péril tire moi par ta clémente pitié :
Puisqu'à la mort oublieuse, de toi la mémoire s'amortit.
Mais qui dira ton honneur dans le sépulcre muet ?
En ma plainte recru, toute nuit je retrempe mes pleurs,
Draps et couverte de lit, jusqu'à la couche mouillés.
L'oeil troublé de douleur, et cavé d'angoisse me vieillit,
Pour tous mes ennemis, aisés du mal que je sens.
Sus arrière de moi, vous, tous les ouvriers de mauvaitié :
Car le Seigneur a oui mon cri, et pleurs douloureux :
Car le Seigneur gracieux a oui la prière que faisais,
Et le Seigneur l'oyant, prompt ma requête fera.
Fort effrayés et troublés tous mes ennemis s'en éperdront :
Et tout soudain effrayés change d'avis ils feront.
poem by Jean Antoine de Baif
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Domestic Shades-17
Wishing My Grand-son
I let my heart open
To let all my wishes soar..
Golden flowers in showers
At the behest of the Sun
Merrily sporting in the breeze
Further to Heaven zoom
Begetting blessing sprinkles all
In showers then to pour
My dear Grand-son,
On every pace of yours
Heightening you to the steeple
People to applaud thronging
As you play
On harp of your heart
Your mind your bow
A soulful life harmonious
A signature-tune your life..
Bowing to this Granny's singing
Ever on as ever
'Happy Birth Day To You....'
For ever long dear Grand-son
poem by Indira Renganathan
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Ma Belle
Farewell, dear Heart! Since needs it must I go,
Dear Heart, farewell!
Fain would I stay, but that I love thee so.
One kiss, ma Belle!
What hope lies in the Land we do not know,
Who, Dear, can tell?
But thee I love, and let thy 'plaint be, ‘Lo,
He loved me well!’
poem by Coventry Patmore
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Sea Song of the Exiles
Dear land, farewell!
Waves surge and swell.
Dear land, farewell, --
Blue sky!
Farewell, white cot whence the ripe grapes fall,
Gold blooms that bask on the mossy wall!
Dear land, farewell!
Hill, plain, and dell!
Dear land, farewell, --
Blue sky!
Dear land, farewell!
Waves surge and swell.
Dear land, farewell, --
Blue sky!
Farewell, betrothed, with the pure, pale brow;
'Neath sombre heaven dark billows we plough.
Dear land, farewell!
In thee our loves dwell;
Dear land, farewell, --
Blue sky!
Dear land, farewell!
Waves surge and swell.
Dear land, farewell, --
Blue sky!
Our eyes, whose tears all brightness blot,
Leave the dark wave for a darker lot!
Dear land, farewell!
In our heart's a knell.
Dear land, farewell, --
Blue sky!
poem by Victor Hugo
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Stay With Me (o' Dear Heart Of Mine)
stay with me
o' dear heart
live with me
my soulheart
come with me
sit with me
talk with me
sing with me
dream with me
o' dear heart of mine
kneel with me
feel with me
smile a joy with me
pain a tear with me
frown with me
but come with me
and stay with thee
dance with me
chance with me
cleanse my heart
and stay with me
o' dear heart of mine
plan with me
journey with me
run with me
walk with me
o' dear heart of mine
brand with me
trend with me
trek with me
pray with me
thirst with me
quench with me
o' dear heart of mine
deal with me
seal with me
not steal with me
but steel with me
care with me
tenderly, humbly
o' dear heart of mine
friend with me
blend with me
mend with me
bend with me
nod with me
unto lord with me
come on board with me
o' dear heart of mine
fear not with me
as far as i see
a life to be
with you and me
o' dear heart of mine
corn with me
form with me
shape with me
tape with me
face with me
race with me
sense with me
nurse with me
o' dear heart of mine
nap with me
not a trap with me
this time
o' dear soul of mine
proud is me
rock with me
my heart
o' dear heart
of mine
map with me
wap with me
come with me
alone with me
stare with me
not to sick me
nor seek me
but stay with me
o' dear heart of mine
cross with me
boss with me
sail with me
rail with me
if i cry
cry with me
when i die
die with me
o' dear heart of mine
cold with me
fold with thee
rainbow with me
shine with me
rise with me
fall with me
stay with me
o' dear heart of mine
share
and care
with thee
o' dear heart of thine
**stay with me o' dear heart of mine** january 2012 ebook
(r) opn
(c) 09.01.2012
2159hrs
***ntema's unique poetry (nup)
(p) all rights of this piece are those of the poet.
poem by Onalethuso Petruss Ntema
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Grand Illusion
I saw you in a dream, it hit me like a bright light
Flashing on a screen, visions of my whole life.
I used to chase the moment of desire
Back to when my young heart burned like a fire.
It was just a, nothing but a grand illusion.
Heart was quicker than the eye.
Nothing but a grand illusion,
Legend in my own mind.
I held you in my arms till the other side of midnight.
Kept you in my mind, you got me through some long nights.
Standing on the threshold of desire,
Caught between the madness and the fire.
Chorus
It was all a grand illusion.
Hand was quicker than the eye.
Nothing but a grand illusion,
Legends in our own minds.
I used to chase the moments of desire
Back to when my young heart burned like a fire.
It was just a, nothing but a, it was all a grand illusion.
Nothing but a grand illusion.
It was all a grand illusion,
Legend in my own mind.
It was just a grand illusion.
Nothing but a grand illusion.
It was just a grand illusion,
Legend in our own mind.
song performed by by Eric Clapton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lord Robert
Tall and young and light of tongue,
Gallantly riding by wood and lea,
He was ware of a maiden fair
And turned and whispered, 'Remember me.'
(Oh Lord Robert, Lord Robert, Lord Robert,
Oh Lord Robert, 'tis I, 'tis I;
Under their feet where the cross-roads meet
Dost thou think I can lie and lie,
Lord Robert, Lord Robert, Lord Robert?)
Day by day she walks that way
Never hoping by wood or lea
To be ware of the stranger gay
Who turned and whispered, 'Remember me.'
(Oh Lord Robert, Lord Robert, Lord Robert,
Oh Lord Robert, 'tis I, 'tis I;
Under their feet where the cross-roads meet
Dost thou think I can lie and lie,
Lord Robert, Lord Robert, Lord Robert?
Chance for chance he rides that way,
And again by wood or by lea
He was ware of the maiden fair,
And again he whispered, 'Remember me.'
(Oh Lord Robert, Lord Robert, Lord Robert,
Oh Lord Robert, 'tis I, 'tis I;
Under their feet where the cross-roads meet
Dost thou think I can lie and lie,
Lord Robert, Lord Robert, Lord Robert?)
Chance for chance that way rode he,
And again where he was ware,
Debonnair to that maiden fair
He turned and said, 'You remember me.'
(Oh Lord Robert, Lord Robert, Lord Robert,
Oh Lord Robert, 'tis I, 'tis I;
Under their feet where the cross-roads meet
Dost thou think I can lie and lie,
Lord Robert, Lord Robert, Lord Robert?)
Chance for chance on a summer-day,
Meeting her still by wood and lea,
He leaped gay from his gallant grey
And said, 'I see you remember me.'
(Oh Lord Robert, Lord Robert, Lord Robert,
Oh Lord Robert, 'tis I, 'tis I;
Under their feet where the cross-roads meet
Dost thou think I can lie and lie,
Lord Robert, Lord Robert, Lord Robert?)
Chance for chance when they hap'd to meet
He pressed on her lip, he breathed in her ear,
Dear dear words and kisses sweet,
Words and kisses too sweet, too dear.
(Oh Lord Robert, Lord Robert, Lord Robert,
Oh Lord Robert, 'tis I, 'tis I;
Under their feet where the cross-roads meet,
Dost thou think I can lie and lie,
Lord Robert, Lord Robert, Lord Robert?)
When the morn enchants the east,
When the south is dazed with noon,
When the eve weeps to the west,
When the night beguiles the moon,
The maid moon that sat so lowly,
Sat so lowly with bended head,
Sat so lowly and rose so slowly,
Rose so slowly and walked so lowly,
Ever, ever with bended head,
Till the black, black hour of the starless sky,
The black, black hour and the dark, dark bed,
And live maids weep as they turn in their sleep,
Weep in their sleep and know not why,
And the white owls shriek and the dead men croon.
Now all ye gentlemen, grand and gay,
When you meet a maid by wood or lea,
Sir Knight, I pray, ride on thy way,
Nor turn and whisper, 'Remember me.'
Lest you drink no wine so strong or fine
But out of the cup, like a shell of the sea,
Thou shalt learn how slaves from their wormy graves
Can do that bidding, 'Remember me.'
(Oh Lord Robert, Lord Robert, Lord Robert,
Oh Lord Robert, 'tis I, 'tis I;
Under their feet where the cross-roads meet
Dost thou think I can lie and lie,
Lord Robert, Lord Robert, Lord Robert?)
Lest never in hall when the knights stand tall
And the goblets flash and the ladies shine,
And thou risest up the king of them all,
To drink to wassail and woman and wine,
Risest up with thy jewelled cup,
But out of the cup, like the sea in a shell,
A voice thou hast known by hill and wood,
A voice, a voice thou hast known too well!
And the cold wine boils on the lip like blood,
And the blood streams cold to the heart like wine,
Cold and hot to the heart like wine.
(Oh Lord Robert, Lord Robert, Lord Robert,
Oh Lord Robert, 'tis I, 'tis I;
Under their feet where the cross-roads meet
Dost thou think I can lie and lie,
Lord Robert, Lord Robert, Lord Robert?)
poem by Sydney Thompson Dobell
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Je pressais ton bras qui tremble
Je pressais ton bras qui tremble ;
Nous marchions tous deux ensemble,
Tous deux heureux et vainqueurs.
La nuit était calme et pure ;
Dieu remplissait la nature
L'amour emplissait nos coeurs.
Tendre extase ! saint mystère !
Entre le ciel et la terre
Nos deux esprits se parlaient.
A travers l'ombre et ses voiles,
Tu regardais les étoiles,
Les astres te contemplaient.
Et sentant jusqu'à ton âme
Pénétrer la douce flamme
De tous ces mondes vermeils,
Tu disais : Dieu de l'abîme,
Seigneur, vous êtes sublime ;
Vous avez fait les soleils !
Et les astres à voix basse
Disaient au Dieu de l'espace,
Au Dieu de l'éternité :
Seigneur, C'est par vous qu'on aime ;
Vous êtes grand, Dieu suprême,
Vous avez fait la beauté !
poem by Victor Hugo
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I Hear 2
I hear that you met someone special to you
I hope that it works out
I hear that you are getting married right after high school
May the stars watch over you my dear friend
I hear that you got pregnant
May the world give them every thing they ever want.
I hear you just celebrated your 5 years anniversary
Grand grads!
I hear that your son just got into U of M
You raised him right.
I hear that you just found out you have cancer
I'm sorry my old friend. May god watch over you.
I hear you are to die at age 70
I will always be here for you. And I love you my dear old friend
poem by Joe Johnson
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Psaume V
Prete l'oreille à ma complainte, Seigneur Dieu :
Veuilles entendre le murmure de ma pensée.
Ma clameur ois, comme mon Roi, comme mon Dieu. Si te prierai.
De matin doncques ma voix, Sire, tu orras :
De matin doncques j'appretrai mon oraison
Toute vers toi, d'où regardant ma délivrance j'attendrais :
Si tu es Dieu à qui forfait ne plaira point :
Si la malfaiture chez toi ne se tient pas :
Si de tes yeux au devant point ne vïendront les étourdis :
Car en horreur tu les as-pris les abhorrant
Tous les ouvriers de vaine erreur : et détruiras
Les avanceurs de la mensonge qui menteurs bavent en vain.
Le détestant le Seigneur hait l'homme maudit,
Qui le sang cherche, et de trahison le métier fait.
Je me fie moi comme assuré de la grandeur de ta bonté :
M'en assurant à ta maison j'irai entrer :
De ce lieu saint t'adorant Dieu révéremment,
Et de ta crainte tout outré, les honneurs dûs je te rendrai.
De ta droiture, Seigneur Dieu, guide mes pas,
Que ne sois mis à la merci de mon haineux :
Et devant moi dresse toujours le chemin saint de ta bonté.
Nulle justice de sa bouche ne sourdra :
Le dedans d'eux, déloyautés : et le gosier,
Une ouverture de tombeau : et de leur langue flatteurs sont.
Désolés soient, saccagés soient : et Seigneur Dieu
Toute l'emprise qu'ils ont faite, défais-la.
Jette les entre le grand nombre de leurs fraudes et forfaits.
Jette-les, eux qui se sont pris à ta grandeur :
Et que tous ceux qui dévots espèrent en toi,
Réjouïs soient. Ils feront fête à jamais quand les abrîras.
Qui ta grandeur aiment, en toi se recréeront :
A l'homme entier ta faveur, Sire, tu donneras :
Et le bouclier de ta bonté le couvrant tout, le défendra.
poem by Jean Antoine de Baif
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Dear Motherland Of France
DEDICATED TO THE MEN AND WOMEN OF FRANCE
Our Motherland, dear Motherland,
The source of beauty and of Art,
Who but thy children understand
The love which permeates each heart!
We see, through rainbow-tints of tears,
Thy glory of a thousand years.
O country of the Great and Free,
We live for thee, we live for thee,
Dear Motherland of France.
O Motherland, both blithe and brave,
What magic lies in thy name-France!
Yet can thy radiant mien be grave,
And stern thy ever-smiling glance.
And when thy sons and daughters know
That enemies would lay thee low
And dim thy fame on land and sea,
We fight for thee, we fight for thee,
Dear Motherland of France.
Dear Motherland of joy and mirth,
Dear Motherland of faith divine,
A thousand years the wondering earth
Has seen thy star in splendour shine.
Still shall it see that star of France
Its splendour and its light enhance.
Dear Motherland, when it need be
We die for thee, we die for thee,
Dear Motherland of France.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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My grand dad
I remember you grand dad
Back since I was only three
I remember you granddad
How much you adored me
I remember you grand dad
How you made me smile
I remember you grand dad
You made my toddler years worthwhile
I remember you grand dad
Your lovely smell of tobacco
I remember you grand dad
The love for others you would show
I remember you grand dad
When I came to see you, you would give me a jellybean
I remember you grand dad
You always made me feel like a queen
I remember you grand dad
And I miss you everyday
Homesick
I’ve lit the Christmas candle,
As we used to long ago
When it shone through cabin windows
On Holly-hedge and snow.
In this fine new house they’ve built me
That is furnished rich and fair-
But I’m hearing now the breakers rolling round the cliffs of Moher,
And my heart is aching, aching for a breath of Irish air.
The wren boys on St. Stephen’s Day.
Went singin’ up and down
With their poor dead wren and thorn bush,
I heard them through the town.
But to-night down lighted city streets,
I hear the distant band,
And when’er they play ‘our own’ hymns or tune of dear old Ireland,
The poor old foolish heart of me is in another land.
‘Twas a lonely hillside chapel,
Where we tramped to midnight Mass,
With the flaring lights we carried
Throwing shadows on the grass.
But to-night my boy will drive me
In his grand new limousine,
And he’ll wrap my furs around me, proudly caring for his Mother,
And I’ll ride to the Cathedral just as grand as any queen.
Ah! No, I’m not repinin’,
And I love this wide new land,
And I’m proud to see the childer
Growin’ prosperous and grand,
But roots strike deep in Irish soil,
Old memories are sweet,
And to-night my heart is yearnin’ for the cabin I was born in,
And I smell the reek of turf-smoke driftin’ up the city streets.
poem by Alice Guerin Crist
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It's Grand
It's grand to be a squatter
And sit upon a post,
And watch your little ewes and lambs
A-giving up the ghost.
It's grand to be a "cockie"
With wife and kids to keep,
And find an all-wise Providence
Has mustered all your sheep.
It's grand to be a Western man,
With shovel in your hand,
To dig your little homestead out
From underneath the sand.
It's grand to be a shearer
Along the Darling-side,
And pluck the wool from stinking sheep
That some days since have died.
It's grand to be a rabbit
And breed till all is blue,
And then to die in heaps because
There's nothing left to chew.
It's grand to be a Minister
And travel like a swell,
And tell the Central District folk
To go to -- Inverell.
It's grand to be a socialist
And lead the bold array
That marches to prosperity
At seven bob a day.
It's grand to be unemployed
And lie in the Domain,
And wake up every second day --
And go to sleep again.
It's grand to borrow English tin
To pay for wharves and docks
And then to find it isn't in
The little money-box.
It's grand to be a democrat
And toady to the mob,
For fear that if you told the truth
They'd hunt you from your job.
It's grand to be a lot of things
In this fair Southern land,
But if the Lord would send us rain,
That would, indeed, be grand!
poem by Andrew Barton Paterson
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Fair Ines
O saw ye not fair Ines?
She 's gone into the West,
To dazzle when the sun is down,
And rob the world of rest:
She took our daylight with her,
The smiles that we love best,
With morning blushes on her cheek,
And pearls upon her breast.
O turn again, fair Ines,
Before the fall of night,
For fear the Moon should shine alone,
And stars unrivall'd bright;
And blessèd will the lover be
That walks beneath their light,
And breathes the love against thy cheek
I dare not even write!
Would I had been, fair Ines,
That gallant cavalier,
Who rode so gaily by thy side,
And whisper'd thee so near!
Were there no bonny dames at home,
Or no true lovers here,
That he should cross the seas to win
The dearest of the dear?
I saw thee, lovely Ines,
Descend along the shore,
With bands of noble gentlemen,
And banners waved before;
And gentle youth and maidens gay,
And snowy plumes they wore:
It would have been a beauteous dream,—
If it had been no more!
Alas, alas! fair Ines,
She went away with song,
With Music waiting on her steps,
And shoutings of the throng;
But some were sad, and felt no mirth,
But only Music's wrong,
In sounds that sang Farewell, farewell,
To her you've loved so long.
Farewell, farewell, fair Ines!
That vessel never bore
So fair a lady on its deck,
Nor danced so light before,—
Alas for pleasure on the sea,
And sorrow on the shore!
The smile that bless'd one lover's heart
Has broken many more!
poem by Thomas Hood
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Uhland's
There were three cavaliers that went over the Rhine,
And gayly they called to the hostess for wine.
"And where is thy daughter? We would she were here,--
Go fetch us that maiden to gladden our cheer!"
"I'll fetch thee thy goblets full foaming," she said,
"But in yon darkened chamber the maiden lies dead."
And lo! as they stood in the doorway, the white
Of a shroud and a dead shrunken face met their sight.
Then the first cavalier breathed a pitiful sigh,
And the throb of his heart seemed to melt in his eye,
And he cried, "Hadst thou lived, O my pretty white rose,
I ween I had loved thee and wed thee--who knows?"
The next cavalier drew aside a small space,
And stood to the wall with his hands to his face;
And this was the heart-cry that came with his tears:
"I loved her, I loved her these many long years!"
But the third cavalier kneeled him down in that place,
And, as it were holy, he kissed that dead face:
"I loved thee long years, and I love thee to-day,
And I'll love thee, dear maiden, forever and aye!"
poem by Eugene Field
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On Hearing The Princess Royal Sing
In thine abode so high
Where yet one scarce can breathe,
Dear child, most tenderly
A soft song thou dost wreathe.
Thou singest, little girl--
Thy sire, the King is he:
Around thee glories whirl,
But all things sigh in thee.
Thy thought may seek not wings
Of speech; dear love's forbidden;
Thy smiles, those heavenly things,
Being faintly born, are chidden.
Thou feel'st, poor little Bride,
A hand unknown and chill
Clasp thine from out the wide
Deep shade so deathly still.
Thy sad heart, wingless, weak,
Is sunk in this black shade
So deep, thy small hands seek,
Vainly, the pulse God made.
Thou art yet but highness, thou
That shaft be majesty:
Though still on thy fair brow
Some faint dawn-flush may be,
Child, unto armies dear,
Even now we mark heaven's light
Dimmed with the fume and fear
And glory of battle-might.
Thy godfather is he,
Earth's Pope,--he hails thee, child!
Passing, armed men you see
Like unarmed women, mild.
As saint all worship thee;
Thyself even hast the strong
Thrill of divinity
Mingled with thy small song.
Each grand old warrior
Guards thee, submissive, proud;
Mute thunders at thy door
Sleep, that shall wake most loud.
Around thee foams the wild
Bright sea, the lot of kings.
Happier wert thou, my child,
I' the woods a bird that sings!
poem by Victor Hugo
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The Pool
By the pool that I see in my dreams, dear love,
I have sat with you time and again;
And listened beneath the dank leaves, dear love,
To the sibilant sound of the rain.
And the pool, it is silvery bright, dear love,
And as pure as the heart of a maid,
As sparkling and dimpling, it darkles and shines
In the depths of the heart of the glade.
But, oh, I 've a wish in my soul, dear love,
(The wish of a dreamer, it seems,)
That I might wash free of my sins, dear love,
In the pool that I see in my dreams.
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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They Were In Love
There was a girl
and a boy
they were so cuie
and in love
they spent there days
and there nights
always in each others sight
they were in love
it came one day
they wanted to wed
there parents said
to go ahead
they had the wedding
and it was grand
they had a nice band
o how did they love
the king saw the girl
and wanted her as wife
with all his life
she was a beauty
he sent for her husband
he was needed for war
he said no more
I shall go
not much later
the king sent a letter
i know this is no better
your husband is dead
she was heart broken
she wept
why couldn’t she kept
her dear husband
all she owed
was taken away
she could not pay
what could she do
the king comforted her
he would make her queen
she was ever lean
she was a beauty
with the baby
on the way
what could she say
but yah
her baby boy was born
not soon after
all there was laughter
but she was sad
her husband returned
she cried with joy
and showed there baby boy
they were in love
but alas he found
she had wed another
and it was his brother
how angry he was
he went to the king
and draw his sword
ooo dear lord
he lost
he was be headed
going agents the king
no one did sing
he’s dead
knowing she betrayed
her dear love
she let go of her dove
she was in love
she took her knife
from under her gown
with no frown
drove it though her heart
the next day
she was found
blood all over her gown
she’s dead
the chamber maids
carried her out
with a shout
she’s dead
in her belly
was a baby
just maybe
it could o lived
in her death
she found him
every thing was mend
they were in love
so they set off
to kill there son
it quite a run
and the king
(its a baled)
poem by Lexxiey Scott
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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