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This First Lieutenant proved to be

His foster-sister MAY,
Who went to sea for love of he

In masculine array.
And when he learnt the curious fact,

Did he emotion show,
Or dry her tears or end her fears

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, COUTE QUI COUTE, 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.

Bethink you how I've kept the vow
I made one winter day, MATILDA -

That, come what could, I never would
Remain 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 now
You treat me so unkind, MATILDA!

For when at sea, off Caribbee,
I felt my passion burn, MATILDA,

By passion egged, I went and begged
The captain to return, MATILDA.

And when, my pet, I couldn't get
That captain to agree, MATILDA,

Right through a sort of open port
I pitched him in the sea, MATILDA!

Remember, too, how all the crew
With indignation blind, MATILDA,

Distinctly swore they ne'er before
Had thought me so unkind, MATILDA.

And how they'd shun me one by one -
An unforgiving group, MATILDA -

I stopped their howls and sulky scowls
By pizening their soup, MATILDA!

So 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!

Ballad: THE REVEREND SIMON MAGUS.
A RICH advowson, highly prized,

For private sale was advertised;
And many a parson made a bid;

The REVEREND SIMON MAGUS did.
He sought the agent's: "Agent, I

Have come prepared at once to buy
(If your demand is not too big)

The Cure of Otium-cum-Digge."
"Ah!" said the agent, "THERE'S a berth -

The snuggest vicarage on earth;
No sort of duty (so I hear),

And fifteen hundred pounds a year!
"If on the price we should agree,

The living soon will vacant be;
The good incumbent's ninety five,

And cannot very long survive.
See - here's his photograph - you see,

He's in his dotage." "Ah, dear me!
Poor soul!" said SIMON. "His decease

Would be a merciful release!"
The agent laughed - the agent blinked -

The agent blew his nose and winked -
And poked the parson's ribs in play -

It was that agent's vulgar way.
The REVEREND SIMON frowned: "I grieve

This light demeanour to perceive;
It's scarcely COMME IL FAUT, I think:

Now - pray oblige me - do not wink.
"Don't dig my waistcoat into holes -

Your mission is to sell the souls
Of human sheep and human kids

To that divine who highest bids.
"Do well in this, and on your head

Unnumbered honours will be shed."
The agent said, "Well, truth to tell,

I HAVE been doing very well."
"You should," said SIMON, "at your age;

But now about the parsonage.
How many rooms does it contain?

Show me the photograph again.
"A poor apostle's humble house

Must not be too luxurious;
No stately halls with oaken floor -

It should be decent and no more.
" No billiard-rooms - no stately trees -

No croquet-grounds or pineries."
"Ah!" sighed the agent, "very true:

This property won't do for you."
"All these about the house you'll find." -

"Well," said the parson, "never mind;
I'll manage to submit to these

Luxurious superfluities.
"A clergyman who does not shirk

The various calls of Christian work,
Will have no leisure to employ

These 'common forms' of worldly joy.
"To preach three times on Sabbath days -

To wean the lost from wicked ways -
The sick to soothe - the sane to wed -

The poor to feed with meat and bread;
"These are the various wholesome ways

In which I'll spend my nights and days:
My zeal will have no time to cool

At croquet, archery, or pool."
The agent said, "From what I hear,

This living will not suit, I fear -
There are no poor, no sick at all;

For services there is no call."
The reverend gent looked grave, "Dear me!

Then there is NO 'society'? -
I mean, of course, no sinners there

Whose souls will be my special care?"
The cunning agent shook his head,

"No, none - except" - (the agent said) -
"The DUKE OF A., the EARL OF B.,



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