It was a Moorish maiden was sitting by a well,
And what the maiden thought of, I cannot, cannot, tell,
When by there rode a valiant knight from the town of Oviedo,
Alphonso Guzman was he hight, the Count of Tololedo.
‘Oh, maiden, Moorish maiden! why sitt’st thou by the spring?
Say, dost thou seek a lover, or any other thing?
Why dost thou look upon me, with eyes so dark and wide,
And wherefore doth the pitcher lie broken by thy side?’
‘I do not seek a lover, thou Christian knight so gay,
Because an article like that hath never come my way;
And why I gaze upon you, I cannot, cannot tell,
Except that in your iron hose you look uncommon swell.
‘My pitcher it is broken, and this the reason is –
A shepherd came behind me, and tried to snatch a kiss;
I would not stand his nonsense, so ne’er a word I spoke,
But scored him on the costard, and so the jug was broke.
‘My uncle, the Alcayd
(William Edmondstoune Aytoun)
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Based on Topics: Love Poems, Spring Poems, Kiss Poems, Reasoning PoemsBased on Keywords: sitt, alphonso, guzman