A Ballad Of The Two Knights

Poem By Sara Teasdale

Two knights rode forth at early dawn
A-seeking maids to wed,
Said one, "My lady must be fair,
With gold hair on her head."

Then spake the other knight-at-arms:
"I care not for her face,
But she I love must be a dove
For purity and grace."

And each knight blew upon his horn
And went his separate way,
And each knight found a lady-love
Before the fall of day.

But she was brown who should have had
The shining yellow hair --
I ween the knights forgot their words
Or else they ceased to care.

For he who wanted purity
Brought home a wanton wild,
And when each saw the other knight
I ween that each knight smiled.

Comments about A Ballad Of The Two Knights

Two knights rode forth at early dawn A-seeking maids to wed, Said one, " My lady must be fair, With gold hair on her head." Expectations for a future life together. very good poem. tony
A great story. Yes what we want and what we get are two different things. good that those kinghts knew how to adjust. A quality so often downplayed and overlooked nowadays.
beautiful ballad for the two knights on their desire of love////
such a great lovely poem.......great 10++++
A Ballad of Two Knights’ by Sara Teasdale is a five stanza ballad poem that tells the st. CONGRATULATIONS to her family and God's Blessings! A TOP Score of 10 for this beautiful poem full of introvert humor, but constantly of amusing quality. Teasdale caught chronic pneumonia and it weakened her not only in body but also in mind and spirit. No longer able to see the beauty in simple things, Teasdale committed suicide at age 48 in New York,

3,6 out of 5
62 total ratings

Other poems of TEASDALE

Advice To A Girl

No one worth possessing
Can be quite possessed;
Lay that on your heart,
My young angry dear;

A Winter Night

My window-pane is starred with frost,
The world is bitter cold to-night,
The moon is cruel, and the wind
Is like a two-edged sword to smite.

After Parting

Oh I have sown my love so wide
That he will find it everywhere;
It will awake him in the night,
It will enfold him in the air.

After Love

There is no magic any more,
We meet as other people do,
You work no miracle for me
Nor I for you.


I am alone, in spite of love,
In spite of all I take and give—
In spite of all your tenderness,
Sometimes I am not glad to live.

After Death

Now while my lips are living
Their words must stay unsaid,
And will my soul remember
To speak when I am dead?