It {003}was a Moorish maiden was sitting by a well, And what the maiden thought of, I cannot, cannot tell, When by there rode a valiant knight from the town of Oviedo-- Alphonzo Guzman was he hight, the Count of Tololedo. "Oh, maiden, Moorish maiden, why sitt'st thou by the spring? Say, dost thou seek a lover, or any other thing? Why dost thou look upon me, with eyes so dark and wide, And wherefore doth the pitcher lie broken by thy side?"…
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