Jenntertainment’s Weblog

There was a woman they called Lady Anne,
With gold in her hair and two doves for her hands.
Every night she’d sing music so sweet,
The crowd all threw roses, red and white roses,
Red and white roses at her feet. 

 

She was the gentle, melodious kind
That few earthly beings ever do find.
The children all begged for a seat at her side
And men made advances to make her their bride,
Men made advances to make her their bride. 

 

Anne was the apple of her father’s eye,
Her mother long gone, she was his earth and sky.
He had chosen one suitor above all the rest;
Lady Anne was not destined to have second best,
Lord Ansington’s daughter must marry the best. 

 

The prize in the land was Sir Johannes Brell,
A handsome young man with a chest that did swell.

His arms could bend iron, his money-purse steel,

But his hair and his soul were as black as an eel,

Yes, his hair and his soul were as black as an eel.

 

In the secret of night, Anna crept from her room

To meet her sweet lover and soon-to-be-groom.

Now here is the catch – listen close, listen well –

His name was Sebastian, not Johannes Brell,

Her lover Sebastian, her suitor John Brell.

 

Every night in the garden they’d meet

And sing of their love, so pure and so sweet.

Though ‘Bastian was poor, he desired her hand.

They would move to the country and live off the land,

In the country they’d live off the fat of the land.

 

‘Next day Anne serenaded the larks of the town,

One by one, children tuned into the sound.

The gardener’s praised her uplifting beat

And tossed her their roses, red and white roses,

Red and white roses at her feet.

 

Her pretty cheeks blushed as she sang of her love,

The song was Sebastian’s from the angels above.

He tossed her a note, hoping nobody spied,

“At midnight tomorrow, you shall be my bride,

At midnight tomorrow, you shall be my bride!”

 

In anticipation, Sebastian prepared

A clean-shaven face and a shirt without tears.

At the tavern he drank his last bachelor beer,

Gulping with pride to an Englishman’s cheer,

Gulping with pride to an Englishman’s cheer.

 

Anne wore the best of her scented perfumes

And placed in her glistening hair ostrich plumes.

Her father’s cheek felt the rough kiss of goodbye,

Not knowing that he would soon lose earth and sky,

Not knowing that soon he would lose earth and sky.

 

 

 

With joyful tears they whispered their vows,

While love whispered through the old willow tree’s boughs.

The birdsong was bright, the air scented sweet

With blooming roses, red and white roses,

Red and white roses at their feet.

 

Then out of the night came a quick-silver dart

That pierced Lady Anne in the core of her heart.

Into ‘Bastian’s limp arms our lady fair fell,

When out of the trees dropped our Johannes Brell,

From out of the trees dropped Sir Johannes Brell.

 

The tear on his cheek spoke more volumes than I,

His fist shook quite violently up at the sky.

Sebastian’s voice let out a soul-shattering cry

Sobbing “why should you want my dear Anna to die?

Why should you want my dear Anna to die?”

 

John said – “Lord Ansington promised his daughter to me,

But she favored your kisses and soft poetry.

I could have given her riches and maids,

Earned her love with my diamonds and colored brocades.

Her love was worth diamonds and colored brocades.

 

“One evening I climbed o’er her garden wall,

Hoping that into my arms she would crawl.

I brought with me trinkets of maiden’s delight,

But saw her embracing you ‘neath the moonlight,

It was you and not I she embraced in the night!

 

“My thoughts filled with rage, I deviséd a plan

To soon have you put six feet under the sand.

I hid in the treetops with night as my masque,

But with trembling fingertips failed at my task,

With trembling fingertips failed my one task.”

 

Sebastian took hold of the swerving arrow,

And struck Johanne’s side with a startling blow.

Each drew their weapons, ‘til down they were bowed,

Their hands all stained crimson, like Anne’s linen shroud,

Their hands all stained crimson, on Anne’s bridal shroud.

 

In her lover’s arms, Lady Anne met her rest,

Held fiercely close to Sebastian’s chest.

In the prompting of silence, two enemies wept,

‘Til at last their ill-fated triumvirate slept.

Three hearts broke by one arrow, ‘til at last they slept.

 

 

 

Sadness washed over their innocent town

The day they laid sweet Lady Anne in the ground.

The larks in the trees sang a music so sweet

The crowd all threw roses, red and white roses

Red and white roses at her feet.