And the lamps were lit as the sun went down;
They swore they’d walk, but there came a show’r:
’Twas long past the hour for Lord Fitz-Brown.
For cabs must walk and ’busses must creep,
Which causes a block from Fleet to Chepe,
While the Temple Bar is moaning.
Three “empties” drew up at Fitz-Brown’s house grand,
As the Devonshire cream and the tart went down;
And the ladies are smiling behind the hand
As the “empties” explain to Lord Fitz-Brown.