and if any should meddle of my cause, i require them to judge the best
470 years. I can't believe it.
Seriously, I didn't want to let this day slide by without paying some tribute in my very own Anne Boleyn LJ community, but I really can't think of anything to say that is particularly original. You all know the story.
However, I hope that at some point today you have paid tribute to our favorite troublemaker with at least a thought, and for those who haven't paid any tribute - the evening is young. Light a candle.
Speaking of which, I think I'm going to plug in my mom's electrical memorial candle right now. There were no Jews in England during the Tudor era, but I'm sure Anne would have been kind to them; she was known for her charity. Maybe that'll be my next investigation...
But for now, how 'bout a rousing rendition of "With her Head Tucked Underneath Her Arm" by R. P. Weston and Bert Lee:
In the Tower of London large as life,
The Ghost of Anne Boleyn walks they declare.
For Anne Boleyn was once King Henry's wife,
Until he made the headsman bob her hair!
Ah, yes, he did her wrong, long years ago
And, she comes up at night to tell him soooo!
With her head tucked underneath her arm
She walks the Bloody Tower
With her head tucked underneath her arm
At the midnight hour.
She comes to haunt King Henry,
She means to give him 'what for',
Gadzook! She's going to tell him off
For having split her gore,
And, just in case the headsman
Wants to give her an encore,
She has her head tucked underneath her arm.
With her head tucked underneath her arm
She walks the Bloody Tower
With her had tucked underneath her arm
At the midnight hour.
Along the draughty corridors,
For miles and miles she goes.
She often catches cold, poor thing,
It's cold there when it blows.
And it's awfully awkward for the Queen,
To have to blow her nose,
With her head tucked underneath her arm.
With her head tucked underneath her arm
She walks the Bloody Tower
With her head tucked underneath her arm
At the midnight hour!
Sometimes gay King Henry gives a spread,
For all his pals and gals and ghostly crew.
The headsman carves the joint and cuts the bread
Then in comes Anne Boleyn to 'queer the do!'
She holds her head up with a wild war whoop!
And Henry cries, "Don't drop it in the soup!"
With her head tucked underneath her arm
She walks the Bloody Tower
With her head tucked underneath her arm
At the midnight hour.
The sentries think that it's a football,
That she carries in.
And when they've had a few they shout,
'Is Ars'nal going to win?'
They think it's Alec James,
Instead of poor old Ann Boleyn,
With her head tucked underneath her arm.
With her head tucked underneath her arm
She walks the Bloody Tower
With her head tucked underneath her arm
At the midnight hour.
One night she caught King Henry
He was in the canteen bar
Said he, "Are you Jane Seymore,
Anne Boleyn or Catherine Parr?"
"How the sweet san fairy ann,
Do I know who you are?"
With your head tucked underneath your arm!
With her head tucked underneath her arm
She walks the Bloody Tower
With her head tucked underneath her arm
At the midnight hour.
Seriously, I didn't want to let this day slide by without paying some tribute in my very own Anne Boleyn LJ community, but I really can't think of anything to say that is particularly original. You all know the story.
However, I hope that at some point today you have paid tribute to our favorite troublemaker with at least a thought, and for those who haven't paid any tribute - the evening is young. Light a candle.
Speaking of which, I think I'm going to plug in my mom's electrical memorial candle right now. There were no Jews in England during the Tudor era, but I'm sure Anne would have been kind to them; she was known for her charity. Maybe that'll be my next investigation...
But for now, how 'bout a rousing rendition of "With her Head Tucked Underneath Her Arm" by R. P. Weston and Bert Lee:
In the Tower of London large as life,
The Ghost of Anne Boleyn walks they declare.
For Anne Boleyn was once King Henry's wife,
Until he made the headsman bob her hair!
Ah, yes, he did her wrong, long years ago
And, she comes up at night to tell him soooo!
With her head tucked underneath her arm
She walks the Bloody Tower
With her head tucked underneath her arm
At the midnight hour.
She comes to haunt King Henry,
She means to give him 'what for',
Gadzook! She's going to tell him off
For having split her gore,
And, just in case the headsman
Wants to give her an encore,
She has her head tucked underneath her arm.
With her head tucked underneath her arm
She walks the Bloody Tower
With her had tucked underneath her arm
At the midnight hour.
Along the draughty corridors,
For miles and miles she goes.
She often catches cold, poor thing,
It's cold there when it blows.
And it's awfully awkward for the Queen,
To have to blow her nose,
With her head tucked underneath her arm.
With her head tucked underneath her arm
She walks the Bloody Tower
With her head tucked underneath her arm
At the midnight hour!
Sometimes gay King Henry gives a spread,
For all his pals and gals and ghostly crew.
The headsman carves the joint and cuts the bread
Then in comes Anne Boleyn to 'queer the do!'
She holds her head up with a wild war whoop!
And Henry cries, "Don't drop it in the soup!"
With her head tucked underneath her arm
She walks the Bloody Tower
With her head tucked underneath her arm
At the midnight hour.
The sentries think that it's a football,
That she carries in.
And when they've had a few they shout,
'Is Ars'nal going to win?'
They think it's Alec James,
Instead of poor old Ann Boleyn,
With her head tucked underneath her arm.
With her head tucked underneath her arm
She walks the Bloody Tower
With her head tucked underneath her arm
At the midnight hour.
One night she caught King Henry
He was in the canteen bar
Said he, "Are you Jane Seymore,
Anne Boleyn or Catherine Parr?"
"How the sweet san fairy ann,
Do I know who you are?"
With your head tucked underneath your arm!
With her head tucked underneath her arm
She walks the Bloody Tower
With her head tucked underneath her arm
At the midnight hour.