We’ll never meet in Queen Mary’s bower,
Now Maries tho ye be.
4
Queen Mary sat in her bower,
Sewing her silver seam;
She thought she heard a baby greet,
But an a lady meen.
5
She threw her needle frae her,
Her seam out of her hand,
We’ll never meet in Queen Mary’s bower,
Now Maries tho ye be.
4
Queen Mary sat in her bower,
Sewing her silver seam;
She thought she heard a baby greet,
But an a lady meen.
5
She threw her needle frae her,
Her seam out of her hand,