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 thought to spot   Some man you wished 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 poor old 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'raps 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!