71.
Heaven knows where the haughty hussy
May have will’d to pitch her tent;
Swearing, with the rain fast falling,
All the city through I went.
From one tavern to another
Ran I swiftly in the rain,
And to every surly waiter
Did I turn myself in vain.
Then I saw her at a window,
Nodding, tittering as well:
Could I tell that thou wouldst live in,
Maiden, such a grand hotel?