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By marrying her? No!
Or did he even try to soothe
This maiden in her teens?
Oh, no!—instead he made her wed
The Sergeant of Marines!
Of course such Spartan discipline
Would make an angel fret;
They drew a lot, and WILLIAM shot
This fearful martinet.
The Admiralty saw how ill
They’d treated CAPTAIN REECE;
He was restored once more aboard
The saucy Mantelpiece.
Ballad: The Sailor Boy To His Lass
I go away this blessed day,
To sail across the sea, MATILDA!
My vessel starts for various parts
At twenty after three, MATILDA.
I hardly know where we may go,
Or if it’s near or far, MATILDA,
For CAPTAIN HYDE does not confide
In any ’fore-mast tar, MATILDA!
Beneath my ban that mystic man
Shall suffer, coûte qui coûte, MATILDA!
What right has he to keep from me
The Admiralty route, MATILDA?
Because, forsooth! I am a youth
Of common sailors’ lot, MATILDA!
Am I a man on human plan
Designed, 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 go
To 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 tongue
Right 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 drink
The dregs of Lethe’s cup, MATILDA!
Remember, do, what I’ve gone through,
Before you give me up, MATILDA!
Recall again the mental pain
Of what I’ve had to do, MATILDA!
And be assured that I’ve endured
It, all along of you, MATILDA!
Do you forget, my blithesome pet,
How once with jealous rage, MATILDA,
I watched you walk and gaily talk
With 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 spot
Some 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 gruff
Enough, I own; but, ah, MATILDA!
It did annoy your sailor boy
To 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 ache
Until 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 boot
Upon a summer day, MATILDA—
It’s my belief, could cause such grief
As that I’ve suffered for, MATILDA,
My having shot in vital spot
Your old progenitor, MATILDA.
Or did he even try to soothe
This maiden in her teens?
Oh, no!—instead he made her wed
The Sergeant of Marines!
Of course such Spartan discipline
Would make an angel fret;
They drew a lot, and WILLIAM shot
This fearful martinet.
The Admiralty saw how ill
They’d treated CAPTAIN REECE;
He was restored once more aboard
The saucy Mantelpiece.
Ballad: The Sailor Boy To His Lass
I go away this blessed day,
To sail across the sea, MATILDA!
My vessel starts for various parts
At twenty after three, MATILDA.
I hardly know where we may go,
Or if it’s near or far, MATILDA,
For CAPTAIN HYDE does not confide
In any ’fore-mast tar, MATILDA!
Beneath my ban that mystic man
Shall suffer, coûte qui coûte, MATILDA!
What right has he to keep from me
The Admiralty route, MATILDA?
Because, forsooth! I am a youth
Of common sailors’ lot, MATILDA!
Am I a man on human plan
Designed, 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 go
To 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 tongue
Right 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 drink
The dregs of Lethe’s cup, MATILDA!
Remember, do, what I’ve gone through,
Before you give me up, MATILDA!
Recall again the mental pain
Of what I’ve had to do, MATILDA!
And be assured that I’ve endured
It, all along of you, MATILDA!
Do you forget, my blithesome pet,
How once with jealous rage, MATILDA,
I watched you walk and gaily talk
With 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 spot
Some 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 gruff
Enough, I own; but, ah, MATILDA!
It did annoy your sailor boy
To 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 ache
Until 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 boot
Upon a summer day, MATILDA—
It’s my belief, could cause such grief
As that I’ve suffered for, MATILDA,
My having shot in vital spot
Your old progenitor, MATILDA.
Другие электронные книги автора William Schwenck Gilbert
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