Heather Dale - Maiden's Choice

A peasant maid of aspect fair went walking, flowers in her hair
Towards the daily market fair, a basket in her hand.
Thereupon she caught the eye of two who chanced to be riding by
A knight upon his stallion high, and a lord who held the land.

“Fair maid,” the two men did exclaim “why walk in dust to reach your aim?
No woman could by any name be beauteous as thee.”
“Good sirs, I have no horse or cart to make good time as thou both art
And so I make an early start, the market wares to see.”

“Fair maid,” the knight said graciously “I pray thee come and ride with me.
Thou wouldst my truest lady be until the day I die.
The sun and moon are in your eyes, the purest blue of cloudless skies.
True grace your form personifies. I’d have you by my side.”

The lord upon his dappled grey. Thought long and hard on what to say.
At last he simply said “I pray you would consider me. Fair maid,” said he
“Away we’ll ride, if you’ll consent to be my bride.
My keep is strong, my land is wide. It’s lady you would be.”

“’Tis comfort and security, or quest for truth and purity.
Fair maid what will your answer be, for whom will you decide?”

“I’ll not adept at flattery. The lord has more to offer me.
With him I’ll make my company, and to the fair we’ll ride.”