Classic Poem

I've fussed and girled all over the world; I've fallen in love in my time;
I'm the sort of bird that can speak no word, or whelm 'em with prose and rhyme.
I fall a while for a lip or a smile, or an eye that's brown or blue;
Yet some time I weary of all of 'em, dearie. But I never get tired of you.

I was fairly sure that Amelia's lure was a permanent, changeless thrall,
And Marguerite was pretty sweet until she began to pall.
They all look prime for a limited time, and I think I'll be leal and true;
But before very long I find something wrong with all of the girls but you.

Oh this one chatters on too many matters, and that one Hates a Crowd;
And this one's slow, with a voice too low, and that one's too fast and loud.
Perhaps by the time I print this rhyme I'll tell you " Good by, I'm through. "
But I will confess, as I go to press, that I'm far from opposed to you.