Lay for the Day
1614: the wedding day of Pocahontas of the Powhatan and John Rolfe.
An Indian queen
Before the USA was made,
Lived in Virginia long ago,
And she ran free.
At ten years old
She saw the white ones,
Played with their own ones in their streets,
Turning cartwheels through the dust.
Her father stern,
Condemned a soldier,
Captain John Smith, to die by club.
This brave child pleaded for his life
And he was spared.
Her English friend
Recrossed the ocean
And she returned to woodland life.
Though shed made peace no peace she gained,
But was sought out
And captive held
Within old Jamestown.
She pined and plained for freedoms past,
But so sweethearted, bore no grudge.
Her smiles revived.
She was baptised,
And won the love of one John Rolfe.
A day in April for his bride
She walked the aisle.
Far and wide their fame did
And for England they set sail.
Lords and ladies did them honour,
And old Englands king and queen.
They turned for home,
To far Virginia,
The woods and hillsides that they missed,
But she fell ill before the day
And at Gravesend
By Father Thames,
The smallpox claimed her.
Just twenty-one, she left her bones
On that grey shore till time shall cease,
Where her good name
and music by The Children
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