Classic Poem

A lady stood on the turret-stone
Looking away o'er the moorlands lone,
If that her love were riding there.
She saw a falcon in the air:
“O happy falcon flying free,
Flying where thy heart would be!
In all the wood one single tree
Thou choosest to be dear to thee.
And so chose I.
My eyes have singled out a knight;
Now other ladies in their spite
Are envious, and spy.
Why will they plot against my happiness?
I grudge them not the men their arms caress.”