A KNIGHT right bold rode over the wold,
Saluted maidens three:
‘Now, if each possess’d what she liked best,
What would her portion be?’
The eldest replied: ‘A carriage of pride,
And milkwhite steeds so fine,
With a prince of renown to claim as my own,
And rapture unpeered were mine.’
The second replied: ‘For no carriage of pride,
Nor milkwhite steeds, I yearn;
But to move in the ball, the envy of all,
And laugh the gallants to scorn.’
The youngest she sighed, and shyly replied:
‘The sole, sole wish of my breast,
Is to merit the hand of the best in the land,
And serve my husband the best.’
Now alights from his steed the knight, and with
speed
He takes the shy maid by the hand;—
They mount and they ride—she’s now the King’s
bride,
And Queen of all the land.