Fairport Convention

One evening as I rambled
Among the leaves so green
I overheard a young woman
Converse with Reynardine
Her hair was black, her eyes were blue
Her lips as red as wine
And he smiled to gaze upon her
Did that sly old Reynardine
She said, "Kind sir, be civil
My company forsake
For in my own opinion
I fear you are some rake"
"Oh no," he said, "no rake am I
Brought up in Venus' train
But I'm seeking for concealment