You, Lass

You, unforgettable lass Wined and dined by champion stuff Chose me singlehandedly Disdaining emblem, lance and ruff I turned out to be minstrel though Luckless wayward troubadour Flitting past from post to post Stringing harps and often poor Lamented bald and ribald all, ‘That epitome of womankind Should languish in the arms of such Fool, who’s always left behind’ Stunned, however, I remain When each morning brings to me Still today at sixty plus Like morning dew your loving glee