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.