Lord Lovell he stood at his own front door, Seeking the hole for his key; His hat was wrecked, and his trousers bore A rent across either knee, When down came the beauteous Lady Jane In fair white draperie. "Oh, where have you been, Lord Lovell?" she said, "Oh, where have you been?" said she; "I have not closed an eye in bed, And the clock has just struck three, Who has been standing you on your head In the ash-barrel, pardie?" "I am not drunk, Lad' Shane," he said: "And so late it cannot be; The clock struck one as I enterèd— I heard it two times, or three; It must be the salmon on which I fed Has been too many for me." "Go tell your tale, Lord Lovell," she said, "To the maritime cavalree, To your grandmother of the hoary head— To any one but me: The door is not used to be opened With a cigarette for a key." | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DOMESDAY BOOK: AT NICE by EDGAR LEE MASTERS OF THE WARS IN IRELAND by JOHN HARRINGTON INDIFFERENCE by EDNA ST. VINCENT MILLAY ON A TOBACCO JAR by BERNARD BARKER SONNET: 15 by RICHARD BARNFIELD MUFFLED by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN STANZAS WRITTEN IN PASSING THE AMBRACIAN GULF by GEORGE GORDON BYRON |