'Twas early one morning, the sun it did shine.
'Twas back in the days of honey and wine.
The dawning was crisp, the fields glinted with frost.
Though some still recall, one by one the night's language was lost.
Just as the village had started to stir
And chosen once more to the day to defer,
The steps of a stallion rang in the square
Drove by a lord who was tall and his clothing was fair.
Yes, a knight of the kingdom that morning did ride.
He was a man of great gallantry known the land wide.
But the village was sleeping, and with no delay
He crossed through the square and continued to pass down the way.
Then when the village was fully behind
And the lush meadows begun to unwind,
The knight raised his voice, told his stallion to yield,
Turned his eyes softly to something he'd seen in the field.
'Twas only a shepherd girl tending her sheep,
Humming a tune that she'd heard in her sleep,
Who, busy with work, did not feel the knight's stare
As waves of the morning sun glowed in her yellowy hair.
The knight tied his horse and he walked through the grass,
With delicate footfalls approached the lass.
But when he had reached her, she to him did rise;
She eyed him impassively, she betrayed no great surprise.
The lord cleared his voice and he said to the maid,
"Here at your feet my poor heart has been laid.
So beautiful lady, if you'll take my ring
And ride with me, you can be wed to a knight of the king."
"Good sir, I am humbled," the maiden replied,
"But here for my flock I must always provide.
Though you're a brave man of the world, it is true,
My place is the meadow and so I cannot go with you."
The knight cried in anguish and fell to his knee
And said, "Divine lady, do not reject me!
I'll see that your sheep will be taken care of.
If you'll give me a chance, I know I'll win the way to your love."
The shepherd girl pondered and to him she said,
"I'll offer this riddle to you instead.
If you can solve it then with you I'll stay,
But if not, you promise to turn and ride on down the way."
The nobleman nodded and the lady spoke plain:
"It's warm in the winter and dry in the rain.
It can't speak its mind and it knows not its name.
It walks not, it travels not, yet all the world feels its flame."
The knight could not answer, and so he gave in,
Leaving the maid with the dawn in her skin,
And she turned back, her chores to perform.
The noon breeze was rising, the day was beginning to warm.
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