Though I was crowned a French princess
My day was quickly done
To trail my childhood's royal dress
In the Paris sun
My husband was to be a king
But died a little child
And I was sent without my ring
Back to Scotland wild
O Mary, Mother, hear my prayer
My cousin is a queen
Most powerful, though not so fair
As I have always been
In Scotland found I men to love
To love, if not to like
Who killed each other for my glove
With knife or sword or pike
But I took one to husband there
So pretty, slim-hipped, spoiled
With velvet eyes and gilded hair
Who fathered me a child
O Mary, Mother, hear my prayer
My cousin is a queen
Most powerful, though not so fair
As I have always been
From this high window seems the earth
A desert or a stone
Despite the son I brought to birth
Who'll sit the English throne
To rule where I have never stood
To rule when I am dead
Who'll nought remember of my good
Nor any word I said
O Mary, Mother, hear my prayer
My cousin is a queen
Most powerful, though not so fair
As I have always been
Ah, God, it is an empty thing
To one gone mad for love
To want it more than be a king
The royal world above
And I was once a French princess
Though that was quickly done
And trail'd my childhood's purple dress
In the Paris sun
My day was quickly done
To trail my childhood's royal dress
In the Paris sun
My husband was to be a king
But died a little child
And I was sent without my ring
Back to Scotland wild
O Mary, Mother, hear my prayer
My cousin is a queen
Most powerful, though not so fair
As I have always been
In Scotland found I men to love
To love, if not to like
Who killed each other for my glove
With knife or sword or pike
But I took one to husband there
So pretty, slim-hipped, spoiled
With velvet eyes and gilded hair
Who fathered me a child
O Mary, Mother, hear my prayer
My cousin is a queen
Most powerful, though not so fair
As I have always been
From this high window seems the earth
A desert or a stone
Despite the son I brought to birth
Who'll sit the English throne
To rule where I have never stood
To rule when I am dead
Who'll nought remember of my good
Nor any word I said
O Mary, Mother, hear my prayer
My cousin is a queen
Most powerful, though not so fair
As I have always been
Ah, God, it is an empty thing
To one gone mad for love
To want it more than be a king
The royal world above
And I was once a French princess
Though that was quickly done
And trail'd my childhood's purple dress
In the Paris sun
Contributed by Bernart Bartleby - 2018/5/16 - 13:10
×
![]()
Note for non-Italian users: Sorry, though the interface of this website is translated into English, most commentaries and biographies are in Italian and/or in other languages like French, German, Spanish, Russian etc.
Parole di Laurence Josephs, docente universitario e poeta statunitense
Musica di Jean Redpath, folksinger e musicista scozzese, nel suo album del 1987 intitolato “A Fine Song For Singing”
Testo trovato su Mudcat Café
Sulla triste storia di Mary Queen Of Scots, nota da noi come Maria Stuarda, si veda l’introduzione a Fotheringay di Sandy Denny.