Come Me Hither I, to Die

Good people of this Christian land,
Here before you now I stand
And come me hither I, to die,
For by the law condemned am I,
And not a word in protest muttered,
Let not a ‘treachery’ be uttered,
These lands demand my soul depart,
By pain of death and muted heart.

For at thy King’s pleasure, ‘tis true,
I soon, to take my leave of you,
I pass not blame, nor beg for life,
This loyal servant, faithful wife,
No longer hath a use on earth,
Couldst not carry your heir to birth,
But God save your most mighty King,
And cease me now of thy ageing.
Please send him strength to reign for all,
For no prince is more merciful,
And to me he was thus adored,
A gentle and most humble lord.

(But shouldst thou meddle of my cause
Judge me upon thy fairest laws,
For many hath a lie been spread
That shall not cease when I am dead).

And thus, I take leave of the world,
Here turn your heads as I’m unfurled.
I ask you, please, most heartily,
Desire that you pray for me.
Oh lord, save me from demons fire,
For to your judgment I expire,
I plead forgiveness in your toll
And beg for mercy on my soul.

Dear swordsman, please, your stroke be true
And let my wretched life be through.

 

deathExecutionkingpoemroyalty

◄ At the Beat of a Drum

Devil ►

Comments

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Dave Bradley

Sun 2nd Jun 2013 14:01

I like this, Simon. Anne Boleyn's story has always exerted a fascination, not least the admirable way she met her end, and you communicate her dignity and courage well.

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