"Last light has fallen,
I awoke today with trepid consternation,
This morning will be my last,
The Tower outside is busy,
Tower hill is ready
Oh poor Guilford!
Thou doest say numbers there are vast
The beating of drums,
relocates me to the window.
I watch him, Guilford Dudley, walking, pacing himself slowly,
Tears weep from my eyes, as I watch him walk his last walk of life.
Departed, now, from my view,
From this here lieutenants room.
I look upon the heavens above,
'God our father bequeath to, Guilford your holy love'.
Nearby, a sound of constant clanging,
It is no longer the drums I hear beating.
Left of the window is a commotion on Tower green,
They are finishing a structure,
It is for me."
Copyright © 2009 by The Maiden’s Court