MY 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 hart, -- 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! "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! |