The next reign is full of commotion and strife,
And Henry the sixth is seen flying for life;
For though King of England, we cannot but see
He's but the shadow of a king--that _should_ be;
And during the thirty-nine years that he reigned
His crown and his sceptre were feebly retained.
It was in this reign on her mission intent,
That Joan of Arc to the battle field went:
The French troops were elated, the English dismayed
At the wonderful victories achieved by her aid;
At length fortune turns, and 'tis needless to tell
Of the fate of this maiden--it is all known too well.
Of Edward the fourth it seems proper to say
That he fancied Dame Shore, when wed to Bess Gray.
But the fate of Jane Shore, should be warning to all
Who from love, or ambition, are tempted to fall.
When Edward the fourth departed this earth,
He left two little sons, both Royal by birth;
But ere three years had pass'd, both met with their doom,
By a most cruel uncle, cut down in their bloom
Of youth, love, and beauty, and laid in the tomb.
King Edward the fifth was the eldest one's name,
Though never permitted by his uncle to reign.
Next comes cruel Richard, the third of that name,
Whose vices surpassing put others to shame.
When unhorsed in battle, he's so anxious to live,
That he cries "for a horse, my kingdom I'll give."
But in the same battle he had his last fall--
Lamented by none, but detested by all.
In the next reign the wars of the roses, all ended,