Page:Heath's Book of Beauty 1833.pdf/11

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112
THE CHOICE.

They say my eyes are like the stars; and if they are so bright,
Methinks they should be as those stars, and shed o'er all their light.

"Don Felix rides the boldest steed, and bears the stoutest lance,
And gallantly above his helm his white plumes wave and dance:
But then Don Guzman—when the night and dews are falling round,
How sweet beneath my lattice comes his lute's soft numbers' sound!

"Don Felix has in trumph borne my colours round the ring;
Three courses, for my beauty's sake, he rode before the King.
Don Guzman he has breathed in song a lover's gentle care—
And many who know not my face, yet know that it is fair."

The inconstant moon, now bright, now veil'd, shone o'er the changing tide;
The wind shook down the flowers, but still new flowers their place supplied;
And echo'd by some far-off song, the lady's voice was heard—
"Alas! I know not which to choose!" was aye her latest word.