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The throne is mine
My living brothers are all bastards
The throne is mine
The nobles swore to it twice
If Stephen the Oath-breaker thinks he’s safe, he’s not
For the throne is mine, the throne is mine

At eight years old a queen, I made Germany my home
With twenty thousand silver marks to help Heinrich subdue Rome
The Pope made him Emperor with unwilling hands
In four years, we were wed; in fifteen, Heinrich was dead

My brother, William, five years earlier, King Henry’s chosen heir
Had drowned crossing the channel; too much wine the culprit there
I went home a widow; Father’s new wife bore no sons
And all the nobles fought to be the first to swear I was the one


To strengthen our border to the south of Normandy
I must wed the heir to Anjou, my Royal Father had decreed
A fifteen-year-old peacock was never my choice
I’m a woman who has ruled, yet I seem to have to have no voice

After years of estrangement and Father’s maneuvering
The nobles swore again support for my right to succeed the King
I rejoined my husband and bore two healthy sons
Yet Father still refused to give my husband castles he had won


I was far away in Anjou when I heard the King was dead
My cousin Stephen seized the treasury, put the crown upon his head
I took the castles denied us, but had to stop to bear a son
By the time I had recovered, Stephen’s treachery was done

I got a foothold in my country; my brother Robert joined my quest
After five years of battle, the pretender we did best
The Lady of England was the title given me
As Stephen rotted in his chains, I proclaimed my sovereignty


In two years’ time, my mother, the great Matilda, was betrayed
She fled to safety with her knights, and Stephen once more King was made
But she never gave up and she fought anew for me
And she raised me up a warrior to defeat our enemy

We claimed Normandy as ours and closed in on Stephen’s men
Stephen feared our might, so a treaty we did pen
He remained King until death, as we allowed
Then, after nineteen years of bloodshed, King of England I was crowned

The throne is mine
My mother fought for our birthright
The throne is mine
That is why I shall be known
As Henry FitzEmpress, son of the great Matilda
The throne is mine, the throne is mine
The throne is mine, the throne is mine

©2014 Robin Lea Fritche