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“MARY, PITY WOMEN!”

You call yourself a man,

For all you used to swear,
An' leave me, as you can,

My certain shame to bear ?
I 'ear! You do not care-

You done the worst you know.
I’ate you, grinnin' there. ...

Ah, Gawd, I love you so!

Nice while it lasted, an' now it is over-
Tear out your 'eart an' good-bye to your lover!
What's the use o' grievin', when the mother that

bore you
(Mary, pity women !) knew it all before you?

It aren't no false alarm,

The finish to your fun;
You—you ’ave brung the 'arm,

An' I'm the ruined one;

An' now you'll off an' run

With some new fool in tow.
Your 'eart? You ’aven't none. ..

Ah, Gawd, I love you so!

When a man is tired there is naught will bind

im; All 'e solemn promised 'e will shove beindim. What's the good o prayin' for The Wrath to

strike 'im, (Mary, pity women!) when the rest are like 'im ?

What 'ope for me or—it ?

What's left for us to do?
I've walked with men a bit,

But this—but this is you!
So 'elp me Christ, it's true!
Where can I 'ide or go ?
You coward through an' through! ...

Ah, Gawd, I love you so!

All the more you give 'em the less are they for

givin'! Love lies dead, an' you can not kiss 'im livin'. Down the road 'e led you there is no returnin', (Mary, pily women!) but you're late in learnin'.

You'd like to treat me fair ?

You can't, because we're pore ?
We'd starve ? What do I care!

We might, but this is shore:
I want the name—no more-

The name, an' lines to show,
An' not to be an 'ore. ...

Ah, Gawd, I love you so!

What's the good o pleadin', when the mother

that bore you (Mary, pity women !) knew it all before you? Sleep on 'is promises an' wake to your sorrow, (Mary, pity women!) for we sail to-morrow !

FOR TO ADMIRE.

The Injian Ocean sets an’ smiles

So sof', so bright, so bloomin' blue; There aren't a wave for miles an' miles

Excep’ the jiggle from the screw. The ship is swep', the day is done,

The bugle's gone for smoke an' play; An' black ag'in' the settin' sun

The Lascar sings, Hum deckty hai !"*

For to admire an' for to see,

For to be old this world so wide-
It never done no good to me,

But I can't drop it if I tried !

I see the sergeants pitchin' quoits,

I'ear the women laugh an' talk, I spy upon the quarter-deck

The orficers an' lydies walk.

*"I'm looking out.”

I thinks about the things that was,

An' leans an' looks acrost the sea, Till, spite of all the crowded ship,

There's no one lef alive but me.

The things that was which I 'ave seen,

In barrick, camp, an' action too, I tells them over by myself,

An' sometimes wonders if they're true; For they was odd-most awful odd

But all the same now they are o'er, There must be 'eaps o'plenty such,

An' if I wait I'll see some more.

Oh, l’ave come upon the books,

An' often broke a barrick rule,
An' stood beside an’ watched myself

Be’avin' like a bloomin' fool.
I paid my price for findin' out,

Nor never grutched the price I paid, But sat in Clink without my boots,

Admirin’’ow the world was made.

Be'old a cloud upon the beam,

An' 'umped above the sea appears Old Aden, like a barrick-stove

That no one's lit for years an' years!

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