And in my course of searching, to check the silver stock,
I chanced upon the key, with which my Lady wound the clock,
A Louis clock she valued, it was on the mantel shelf
In her boudoir, her habit was to wind it up herself,
I brought it to her bedroom, and scratched a single knock,
And asked her through the keyhole, if she had wound the clock.
My words were scarcely uttered, when from another door,
I heard a foot, that should have been that night in Singapore!
I saw an eye, that should have seen that night a foreign shore,