* * *
Our Lonely Love-Sick Gob
This poem was not written by Kipling, nor has it passed the scrutiny of our village schoolmaster, but what it lacks in rhetoric is made up in punch. “I made this up about a girl that turned me down over a shipmate of mine, and will thank you to publish it for the benefit of other love-sick gobs,” writes the author, a sailor at the Philadelphia naval station.
Now, listen shipmates, listen,
And I shall tell to you,
How once I met a girlie,
Just like other fellows do.
I loved her, yes, I loved her,
And I know she knew it well,