# The Songs of a Sentimental Bloke/IX. Pilot Cove

* Pilot Cove
* OUNG friend," 'e sez… Young friend! Well, spare me days!
* Yeh'd think I wus 'is own white-'eaded boy—
* The queer ole finger, wiv 'is gentle ways.
* "Young friend," 'e sez, "I wish't yeh bofe great joy."
* The langwidge that them parson blokes imploy
* Fair tickles me. The way 'e bleats an' brays!
* "Young friend," 'e sez.
* "Young friend," 'e sez… Yes, my Doreen an' me
* We're gettin' hitched, all straight an' on the square,
* Fer when I torks about the registry—
* O 'oly wars ! yeh should 'a' seen 'er stare;
* "The registry?" she sez, "I wouldn't dare!
* I know a clergyman we'll go an' see"…
* "Young friend," 'e sez.
* "Young friend," 'e sez. An' then 'e chats me straight;
* An' spouts uv death, an' 'ell, an' mortal sins.
* "You reckernize this step you contemplate ​Is grave?" 'e sez. An' I jist stan's an' grins;
* Fer when I chips, Doreen she kicks me shins.
* "Yes, very 'oly is the married state,
* "Young friend," 'e sez.
* "Young friend," 'e sez. An' then 'e mags a lot
* Of jooty an' the spiritchuil life,
* To which I didn't tumble worth a jot.
* "I'm sure," 'e sez, "as you will 'ave a wife
* 'Oo'll 'ave a noble infl'ince on yer life,
* "'Oo is 'er gardjin?" I sez, "'Er ole pot"—
* "Young friend!" 'e sez.
* "Young friend," 'e sez, "Oh fix yer thorts on 'igh!
* Orl marridges is registered up there!
* An' you must cleave unto 'er till yeh die,
* An' cherish 'er wiv love an' tender care.
* E'en in the days when she's no longer fair
* She's still yer wife," 'e sez. "Ribuck," sez I.
* "Young friend!" 'e sez.
* "Young friend," 'e sez—I sez, "Now, listen 'ere:
* This isn't one o' them impetchus leaps.
* There ain't no tart a 'undreth part so dear
* As 'er. She 'as me 'eart an' soul fer keeps!"
* An' then Doreen, she turns away an' weeps;
* But 'e jist smiles. "Yer deep in love, 'tis clear,
* "Young friend," 'e sez.
* ​"Young friend," 'e sez—an' tears wus in 'is eyes—
* "Strive 'ard. Fer many, many years I've lived.
* An' I kin but recall wiv tears an' sighs
* The lives of some I've seen in marridge gived,"
* "My Gawd!" I sez. "I'll strive as no bloke strivved!
* Fer don't I know I've copped a bonzer prize?"
* "Young friend!" 'e sez.
* "Young friend," 'e sez. An' in 'is gentle way,
* 'E pats the shoulder uv my dear Doreen,
* "I've solim'ized grand weddin's in me day,
* But 'ere's the sweetest little maid I've seen.
* She's fit fer any man, to be 'is queen;
* An' you're more forchinit than you kin say,
* "Young friend," 'e sez.
* "Young friend," 'e sez… A queer ole pilot bloke,
* Wiv silver 'air. The gentle way 'e dealt
* Wiv 'er, the soft an' kindly way 'e spoke
* To my Doreen, 'ud make a statcher melt.
* I tell yeh, square an' all. I sorter felt
* A kiddish kind o' feelin' like I'd choke…
* "Young friend," 'e sez.
* "Young friend," 'e sez, "you two on Choosday week,
* Is to be joined in very 'oly bonds.
* To break them vows I 'opes yeh'll never seek; ​Fer I could curse them 'usbands 'oo absconds!"
* "I'll love 'er till I snuff it," I responds.
* "Ah, that's the way I likes to 'ear yeh speak,
* Young friend," 'e sez.
* "Young friend," 'e sez—an' then me 'and 'e grips—
* "I wish't yeh luck, you an' yer lady fair.
* Sweet maid." An' sof'ly wiv 'is finger-tips,
* 'E takes an' strokes me cliner's shinin' 'air.
* An' when I seen 'er standin' blushin' there,
* I turns an' kisses 'er, fair on the lips.
* "Young friend!" 'e sez.