A maiden, with a garland on her head, <br />Sat in her bower between two lovers: one <br />Wore such a wreath as hers; the other none. <br />But him, in merry wise, she garlanded <br />With that she wore; then, gaily, took instead <br />The other's wreath and wore it as her own; <br />Whereat both smiled, each deeming she had shown <br />Himself the favourite. Though she nothing said <br />Concerning this by any spoken word, <br />Yet by her act, methinks, the maid preferred <br />The lover she discrowned. A friendly thing <br />Or whimsical-no more-the gift she gave, <br />(A queen might do as much by any slave), <br />But he whose crown she wore was her heart's king.<br /><br />John Godfrey Saxe<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/love-crowned/
