The Sailor Boy to His Lass
I GO away this blessed day,To sail across the sea, MATILDA!My vessel starts for various partsAt twenty after three, MATILDA.I hardly know where we may go,Or if it’s near or far, MATILDA,For CAPTAIN HYDE does not confideIn any ’fore-mast tar, MATILDA!
Beneath my ban that mystic manShall suffer, coûte qui coûte, MATILDA!What right has he to keep from meThe Admiralty route, MATILDA?Because, forsooth! I am a youthOf common sailors’ lot, MATILDA!Am I a man on human planDesigned, or am I not, MATILDA?
But there, my lass, we’ll let that pass!With anxious love I burn, MATILDA.I want to know if we shall goTo church when I return, MATILDA?Your eyes are red, you bow your head;It’s pretty clear you thirst, MATILDA,To name the day—What’s that you say?—“You’ll see me further first,” MATILDA?
I can’t mistake the signs you make,Although you barely speak, MATILDA;Though pure and young, you thrust your tongueRight in your pretty cheek, MATILDA!My dear, I fear I hear you sneer—I do—I’m sure I do, MATILDA!With simple grace you make a face,Ejaculating, “Ugh!” MATILDA.
Oh, pause to think before you drinkThe dregs of Lethe’s cup, MATILDA!Remember, do, what I’ve gone through,Before you give me up, MATILDA!Recall again the mental painOf what I’ve had to do, MATILDA!And be assured that I’ve enduredIt, all along of you, MATILDA!
Do you forget, my blithesome pet,How once with jealous rage, MATILDA,I watched you walk and gaily talkWith some one thrice your age, MATILDA?You squatted free upon his knee,A sight that made me sad, MATILDA!You pinched his cheek with friendly tweak,Which almost drove me mad, MATILDA!
I knew him not, but hoped to spotSome man you thought to wed, MATILDA!I took a gun, my darling one,And shot him through the head, MATILDA!I’m made of stuff that’s rough and gruffEnough, I own; but, ah, MATILDA!It did annoy your sailor boyTo find it was your pa, MATILDA!
I’ve passed a life of toil and strife,And disappointments deep, MATILDA;I’ve lain awake with dental acheUntil I fell asleep, MATILDA!At times again I’ve missed a train,Or p’rhaps run short of tin, MATILDA,And worn a boot on corns that shoot,Or, shaving, cut my chin, MATILDA.
But, oh! no trains—no dental pains—Believe me when I say, MATILDA,No corns that shoot—no pinching bootUpon a summer day, MATILDA—It’s my belief, could cause such griefAs that I’ve suffered for, MATILDA,My having shot in vital spotYour old progenitor, MATILDA.
Bethink you how I’ve kept the vowI made one winter day, MATILDA—That, come what could, I never wouldRemain too long away, MATILDA.And, oh! the crimes with which, at times,I’ve charged my gentle mind, MATILDA,To keep the vow I made—and nowYou treat me so unkind, MATILDA!
For when at sea, off Caribbee,I felt my passion burn, MATILDA,By passion egged, I went and beggedThe captain to return, MATILDA.And when, my pet, I couldn’t getThat captain to agree, MATILDA,Right through a sort of open portI pitched him in the sea, MATILDA!
Remember, too, how all the crewWith indignation blind, MATILDA,Distinctly swore they ne’er beforeHad thought me so unkind, MATILDA.And how they’d shun me one by one—An unforgiving group, MATILDA—I stopped their howls and sulky scowlsBy pizening their soup, MATILDA!
So pause to think, before you drinkThe dregs of Lethe’s cup, MATILDA;Remember, do, what I’ve gone through,Before you give me up, MATILDA.Recall again the mental painOf what I’ve had to do, MATILDA,And be assured that I’ve enduredIt, all along of you, MATILDA!