She would have none of it,
My looks, my charm, my wit.
Oh! that she were mine,
My Lady in ebony.

She turned and walked away,
So fast, I could just say:
"My Lady, be thou mine,"
My Lady in black.

In the mirror I caught her eyes,
Full of hope, longing, desire,
My Lady shall be mine,
My Lady in jet.

I floated as though on clouds,
Farewell to Misery's shrouds,
Now she will be mine,
My Lady in sable.

3rd April, 1992