THEY HAVE KILLED MY NIGHTINGALE They have killed my nightingale, They have stilled the silver voice and in its death rejoice. They have ripped the golden sail And left me drifting helplessly upon the wind-tossed sea. They have killed the blazing fire Which gave me light and kept me warm against the bitter storm. They have torn from heaven the star Upon whose presence I relied to be my constant guide. Pierced is the heart which knew no hate, Crushed is the love which while it burned asked nothing in return. Where now my shelter, what my fate? Scared and grieving, doomed to fail without my nightingale. From Mary Queen of Scots – The Musical 1992