The Beggar-Maid

Her arms across her breast she laid;
She was more fair than words can say;
Barefooted came the Beggar-maid
Before the King Cophetua.

In robe and crown the King stept down,
To meet and greet her on her way;
“It is no wonder,” said the Lords,
“She is more beautiful than day.”

As shines the moon in clouded skies,
She in her poor attire was seen;
One praised her ankles, one her eyes,
One her dark hair and lovesome mien.

So sweet a face, such angel grace,
In all that land had never been.
Cophetua sware a royal oath:
“This Beggar-maid shall be my Queen!”

Alfred, Lord Tennyson