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THERE DWELT A LADY VERY YOUNG.

I

There dwelt a lady very young
In a castle very old,
One lover came with store of love,
And one with store of gold;
And both with bow and arrow shot,
And both the mark could strike,
And each could play his own guitar,
And each could charm alike.
Then which to choose and which refuse,
The lady well might ask,
Decision with such perfect men
Was not an easy task.
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II

At length, she said, “Come both with me,
To-morrow I'll decide,
And he who plays and shoots the best,
Shall claim me as his bride.”
The poor one had no trust except
His oft exerted skill,
The rich one was resolv'd to trust
To something better still.
“Henceforth, I'll play with golden strings,
With gold I'll tip my dart;
Yes, yes!” said he, “I know the way,
To win the lady's heart.”

III

Oh, he was first to school, but see,
His dart's no longer fleet,
And he was first to play,
But hark his harp's no longer sweet.
The poor one's dart is tip'd with steel,
His strings are simple wire,
Guitar and dart have won her heart,
What change can he desire?
The lady's voice has nam'd her choice,
And yonder knight is told:
He wins who trusts to zeal and worth,
He fails, who trusts to gold.
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