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 impulse 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! [Illustration] 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! [Illustration] [Illustration] THE SUICIDE'S GRAVE On a tree by a river a little tomtit Sang "Willow, titwillow, titwillow!" And I said to him, "Dicky-bird, why do you sit Singing 'Willow, titwillow, titwillow'? Is it weakness of intellect, birdie?" I cried, "Or a rather tough worm in your little inside?" With a shake of his poor little head he replied, "Oh, willow, titwillow, titwillow!" He slapped at his chest, as he sat on that bough, Singing "Willow, titwillow, titwillow!" And a cold perspiration bespangled his brow, Oh, willow, titwillow, titwillow! He sobbed and he sighed, and a gurgle he gave, Then he threw himself into the billowy wave, And an echo arose from the suicide's grave-- "Oh, willow, titwillow, titwillow!" Now I feel just as sure as I'm sure that my name Isn't Willow, titwillow, titwillow, That 'twas blighted affection that made him exclaim, "Oh, willow, titwillow, titwillow!" And if you remain callous and obdurate, I Shall perish as he did, and you will know why, Though I probably shall not exclaim as I die, "Oh, willow, titwillow, titwillow!" [Illustration] [Illustration] THE REVEREND SIMON MAGUS