To ’ear ’er voice!...A bloke ’ud be a log
‘Oo kep’ ’is block.  Me mind wus in a fog
  Of sorrer for to think ’ow I wus wrong;
Ar, I ’ave been a fair ungrateful ’og! 
  The feelin’ that she put into that song
’Ud melt the ’eart-strings of a chiner dog.

I listens wiv me ’eart up in me throat;
I drunk in ev’ry word an’ ev’ry note. 
  Tears trembles in ’er voice when she tells ’ow
That tart snuffed out becos ’e never wrote. 
  An’ then I seen ’ow I wus like that cow. 
Wiv suddin shame me guilty soul wus smote.

Doreen she never looked my way; but stood
‘Arf turned away, an’ beefed it out reel good,
  Until she sang that bit about the grave;
“Too late ’e learned ’e ’ad misunderstood!”
  An’ then—­Gorstrooth!  The pleadin’ look she gave
Fair in me face ‘ud melt a’eart o’ wood.

I dunno ‘ow I seen that evenin’ thro’. 
They muster thort I was ’arf shick, I knoo. 
  But I ’ad ’urt Doreen wivout no call;
I seen me dooty, wot I ’ad to do. 
  O, strike!  I could ‘a’ blubbed before ’em all! 
But I sat tight, an’ never cracked a boo.

An’ when at larst the tarts they makes a rise,
A lop-eared coot wiv ’air down to ’is eyes
  ’E ‘ooks on to Doreen, an’ starts to roam
Fer ‘ome an’ muvver.  I lines up an’ cries,
  “‘An’s orf!  I’m seein’ this ’ere cliner ’ome!”
An’ there we left ‘im, gapin’ wiv surprise.

She never spoke; she never said no word;
But walked beside me like she never ’eard. 
  I swallers ‘ard, an’ starts to coax an’ plead,
I sez I’m dead ashamed o’ wot’s occurred. 
  She don’t reply; she never takes no ’eed;
Jist stares before ’er like a startled bird.

I tells ’er, never can no uvver tart
Be ’arf wot she is, if we ’ave to part. 
  I tells ’er that me life will be a wreck. 
It ain’t no go.  But when I makes a start
  To walk away, ‘er arms is roun’ me neck. 
“Ah, Kid!” she sobs.  “Yeh nearly broke me ’eart!”

I dunno wot I done or wot I said. 
But ’struth!  I’ll not forgit it till I’m dead—­
  That night when ’ope back in me brisket lobs: 
’Ow my Doreen she lays ’er little ’ead
  Down on me shoulder ‘ere, an’ sobs an’ sobs;
An’ orl the lights goes sorter blurred an’ red.

Say, square an’ all—­It don’t seem right, some’ow,
To say such things; but wot I’m feelin’ now
  ’As come at times, I s’pose, to uvver men
When you ’ave ’ad a reel ole ding-dong row,
  Say, ain’t it bonzer makin’ up agen? 
Straight wire, it’s almost worth...Ar, I’m a cow!

To think I’d ever seek to ’arm a ’air
Of ’er dear ’ead agen!  My oath, I swear
  No more I’ll roust on ’er in angry ’eat! 
But still, she never seemed to me so fair;
  She never wus so tender or so sweet
As when she smooged beneath the lamplight there.

She’s never been so lovin’ wiv ’er gaze;
So gentle wiv ’er pretty wimmin’s ways. 
  I tells ’er she’s me queen, me angel, too. 
“Ah, no, I ain’t no angel, Kid,” she says. 
  “I’m jist a woman, an’ I loves yeh true! 
An’ so I’ll love yeh all me mortal days!”