Fair Cordelia, the name I have borne,
Young and beautiful, so I have been told.
Held in regard as a rose with no thorn,
Soon, my hand clasped, in marriage shall unfold.

Of France or of Burgundy is my fate,
As wife I shall be as wives do commit.
To whom in desires is good and straight,
Shall posses my heart, of that I submit

Thou couldst say I’m young upon naked glance,
I shant deny, to that I share no joust.
Thou couldst say I’m mature in circumstance,
My age of mind that one cannot contest.

To my father, my king, I share a bond,
Not created thusly from emotion.
Made by Mother Nature when I had dawned,
Loyal to my crown, thus is the potion

The seeds of change have blown upon us now,
Watered by the rain of age and reason
And taken root upon my father’s brow.
Now ‘tis I to change the royal season.

He hath called upon my sisters and I,
He who holds the crown for nigh a second.
Vanquishing his power and we comply,
Now the taste of ruling, so it beckons.

I must have flight, the alarums did sound,
The time of great division, it is near.
I go to greet my husband, to be found,
And to the simple man that they call Lear.

If I must profess my love upon his ears,
I may leave a bride, but a father in tears.