Poems (Allen)/"My Dearling"

"MY DEARLING."
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 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!

"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!