We came at last, alas! I see it yet,
With its open windows on the upper floor,
To a certain house still stirring, with lights set,
And just a chink left open of the door.
Here my companion stopped and bade me in;
Her dressmaker's, she said. And I, who heard
A sound of women's voices from within,
Shrank back alarmed and ready at a word
From any damsel stoutly to deny.
But ``Madame Blanche,'' she said to ease my fears,
``Is a good soul, and far too wise to pry
Or fancy evil of her customers
At any hour of the night they choose to come,
Much less of me.'' And so I followed dumb.

Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/esther-a-sonnet-sequence-xliv/