Classic Poem

Queen Jeanie, Queen Jeanie, traveld six weeks and more,
Till women and midwives had quite gien her oer:
‘O if ye were women as women should be,
Ye would send for a doctor, a doctor to me.’

The doctor was called for and set by her bedside:
‘What aileth thee, my ladie, thine eyes seem so red?’
‘O doctor, O doctor, will ye do this for me,
To rip up my two sides, and save my babie?’

‘Queen Jeanie, Queen Jeanie, that 's the thing I 'll neer do,
To rip up your two sides to save your babie:’
Queen Jeanie, Queen Jeanie, traveld six weeks and more,
Till midwives and doctors had quite gien her oer.

‘O if ye were doctors as doctors should be,
Ye would send for King Henry, King Henry to me’
King Henry was called for, and sat by her bedside,
‘What aileth thee, Jeanie? what aileth my bride?’

‘King Henry, King Henry, will ye do this for me,
To rip up my two sidas, and save my babie?’
‘Queen Jeanie, Queen Jeanie, that 's what I 'll never do,
To rip up your two sides to save your babie.’

But with sighing and sobbing she 's fallen in a swoon,
Her side it was ript up, and her babie was found;
At this bonie babie's christning there was meikle joy and mirth,
But bonnie Queen Jeanie lies cold in the earth.

Six and six coaches, and six and six more,
And royal King Henry went mourning before;
O two and two gentlemen carried her away,
But royal King Henry went weeping away.

O black were their stockings, and black were their bands,
And black were the weapons they held in their hands;
O black were their muffiers, and black were their shoes,
And black were the cheverons they drew on their luves.

They mourned in the kitchen, and they mournd in the ha,
But royal King Henry mournd langest of a':
Farewell to fair England, farewell for evermore!
For the fair flower of England will never shine more.