The Red Petticoat
You were no beauty, Anne Boleyn,
Your skin too dark, not fair,
Your eyes were brown, tho' almost black,
And dark, your dark brown hair;
'Not handsome, ' the Ambassador
From Venice would opine,
But everyone agreed, your slender neck
Was very fine.
Your sister Mary wooed the King,
And took him to her bed,
She'd thought that she could win; he stayed
With Catherine, instead,
For Harry never dignified
The whores he conquered, when
The skirts he couldn't raise were far
More Queenly, then, to him.
Your eyes, they sparkled, led him on,
Your lips they told him 'No! '
'I would not have my liege, my prince
Think badly of me so! '
For seven years you pouted, swore
Undying love could wait,
Until he gained the great divorce,
Re-sought the wedded state.
Oh, Anne Boleyn, the only sin
You sought was to be free,
To choose the man you would adore,
Not bound by some decree,
But Percy was then barred from court
As Wolsey warned him off,
And Wyatt's gentle poetry
Was merely Courtly Love.
To be demure and gentle,
Acquiesce in Henry's plans,
Was not the way of Anne Boleyn,
You used your pressing charms.
You could be stubborn, quarrelsome
As all in court could hear,
Chapuys called you a 'she-devil',
A woman men should fear.
And so it was with Thomas More,
You helped him disappear,
By whispering words of hatred in
King Henry's willing ear,
Your tongue brought Cardinal Wolsey down,
[...] Read more
poem by David Lewis Paget
Added by Poetry Lover
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