Classic Poem

The revels were over,
The serenade sung,
Above my love's doorway
My garland I hung.

But just at that moment
A stream from above,
Most deftly directed,
Disastrous did prove.

It flattened my ringlets
So carefully dressed,
Three days they were meant to
Remain at their best.

But, mark you, the water
Which then she did throw,
No chill was to passion,
But set me aglow.

For ere she had flung it
She filled it with fire,
One touch of her lips, and
'Twas hot with desire.