LXXII.
Lord knows where the reckless creature
Chose her transient stopping-place!
Swearing through the rainy weather,
Everywhere I seek her trace.
I have been to every tavern
Running up and running down,
And of every surly waiter
Made inquiries in the town.
Lo, I see her in yon window!
And she beckons—all is well!
Could I guess that you had chosen,
Lady, such a grand hotel?