The Bab Ballads, with Which Are Included Songs of a Savoyard

by W. S. Gilbert

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,