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THE SPANISH VIRGIN. 361 |
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In Spain a lady liv'd of late,
Who was of high degree; 10
Whose wayward temper did create
Much woe and misery.
Strange jealousies so filled her head
With many a vain surmize, She thought her lord had wrong'd her bed, 15
And did her love despise.
A gentlewoman passing fair
Did on this lady wait; With bravest dames she might compare;
Her beauty was compleat. go
Her lady cast a jealous eye
Upon this gentle maid, And taxt her with disloyaltye,
And did her oft upbraid.
In silence still this maiden meek 25
Her bitter taunts would bear, While oft adown her lovely cheek _ Would steal the falling tear.
In vain in humble sort she strove
Her fury to disarm; so
As well the meekness of the dove
The bloody hawke might charm.
Her lord, of humour light and gay,
And innocent the while, As oft as she came in his way, 35
Would on the damsell smile. |
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