Under a cork-tree, deep in the shade

Under a cork-tree, deep in the shade
Of the Alpuxaras, I wooed a maid;
She was plump as a chestnut, grown
In a Catalan sunshine — and as brown.
First, I wooed her with smiles, and then
Sighed "like furnace," o'er and agen.
Long she listened, then laughing gay,
Sang me a snatch of an ancient lay.
" There was a damsel lived in a dell, —
Dames of Nevada! Dames of Nevada!
And a Cavalier bold, he loved her well
He loved her well —
Knights of Grenada! Knights of Grenada! "
Flinty and rough was the ground, ah me!
Yet down I dropped upon bended knee,
And vow upon vow I volubly uttered,
While my heart beat quick and my pulses fluttered.
In delicate phrases, quaintly adorned,
I coaxed and wheedled, flattered and fawned;
But lo! in the midst, with an " all very pretty "
Impertinent air, she took up her ditty:
" Quoth the damsel, ' Sir, be frank and free '—
Dames of Nevada! Dames of Nevada!
'Dare you wed a maiden of low degree,'
Of low degree —
Knights of Grenada! Knights of Grenada! "
Saints! was it any thing in the air
Struck such a chill through my blood? I swear
I was ready to faint, and pale and red
Went I by turns, while that one word ' wed '
Smote on my ears like a tocsin, quelling
Visions of bliss with its sudden knelling.
Curled the red lip of the maid, and then
Her clear voice broke into song agen: —
" Blank looked the suitor and sore forlorn —
Dames of Nevada! Dames of Nevada!
And the damsel laughed his love to scorn,
His love to scorn —
Knights of Grenada! Knights of Grenada! "
Scorn! — 'twas the only word, in sooth;
There was no disguising that plain truth —
With a lifted brow and a flashing eye,
She fronted me in her purity,
And her glance — oh! it made my soul confess
Its shame, and her own true nobleness:
Mute and abashed I stood, and anon
With a sigh she left me — singing on:
" ' Albeit a cavalier bold,' quoth she —
Dames of Nevada! Dames of Nevada!
' A lover art thou of low degree,
Of low degree! '
Knights of Grenada! Knights of Grenada! "