The Errant Minstrel

Through the countryside I've trodden
Crossing every wood and dale,
Oft my weary feet are sodden
When a stream doth meet my trail.

Since my wand'rings brought me hither
And I sit here in your hall,
I shall now bring forth my zither,
And I pray you, hearken all.

I shall sing of times now past,
Of the puissant kings of yore.
Of their treasure great amass'd
Of their chivalry, and more.

May the tale I sing belike you,
Lords and ladies of this hall.
And if 'tis so, I pray you,
Please take notice of your thrall.

Poet's note: My sister has suggested that I lengthen this poem and add to it the minstrel's song. Do you think I ought to do this, or should I consider it finished?