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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 be'ind 'im.
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 and through! . . .
Ah, Gawd, I love you so!
All the more you give 'em the
less are they for givin' --
Love lies dead, an' you cannot
kiss 'im livin'.
Down the road 'e led you there
is no returnin'
(Mary, pity 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!
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