My heart I bequeath to thee
and pray someday thou wilt show me fancy
but if she hath thy heart, and it cannot be made mine
I say to thee, though it pains me so, my heart will still be
thine.
This milady longs to be thy maiden
fair;
Longs to shower thee with love and
care.
In thine arms this one seeks to
find and have a home
Lest thou not allow it so, then
this lady shalt keep roam.
My heart is thine I hath said to
thee
My eyes see no other man for this
milady.
But perhaps thereth someone else
as I walk forth
Perhaps someone else shalt
capture this maiden heart.
So with a smile and a hood for the
long run
This lady shalt walk on until this
journey is done.
My heart I shalt for now leave
with thee
Until its rightful King claimeth
it for me.
