Classic Poem

'Twas of a gay young cavalier,
Of honor and renown;
All for to seek a lady fair,
He rode from town to town.

'Twas at a widow woman's door,
He drew his rein so free;
For by her side the knight espied
Her comely daughters three.

Small marvel if his gallant heart
Beat quick within his breast;
'Twas hard to choose, yet hard to lose,
Which might he wed the best.

“Come, maidens, pretty maidens,
Come read my riddles three;
And she who reads the best of all,
My loving bride shall be;

“Oh, tell me what is longer
Than the longest path there be;
And tell me what is deeper
Than is the deepest sea.

“And tell me what is louder
Than is the loudest horn;
And tell me what is sharper
Than is the sharpest thorn.

“And tell me what is greener
Than the grass on yonder hill,
And tell me what is crueller
Than a wicked woman's will.”

The eldest and the second maid,
They sat and thought a while;
The youngest she looked up to him,
And said with a merry smile;

“Love, surely it is longer
Than the longest path there be;
And Hell, they say is deeper
Than is the deepest sea;

“Thunder, I know is louder
Than is the loudest horn;
And hunger it is sharper
Than is the sharpest thorn;

“I know a deadly poison, greener
Than the grass on yonder hill;
And a foul fiend is crueller
Than a wicked woman's will.”

Now scarcely had she spoke those words,
When the youth was at her side;
'Twas all for what she answered him
He claimed her for his bride.

The eldest and the second maid,
They pondered and were dumb;
And they, perchance, are waiting yet,
Some other one to come.

Now maidens, pretty maidens,
Be neither coy nor shy,
But always, when a lover speaks,
Look kindly and reply.