She knoo. I've done me block in on her, straight.
    A cove 'as got to think some time in life
  An' get some decent tart, ere it's too late,
        To be 'is wife.
  But, Gawd! 'Oo would 'a' thort it could 'a' been
  My luck to strike the likes of Per?…Doreen!

  Aw, I can stand their chuckin' off, I can.
    It's 'ard; an' I'd delight to take 'em on.
  The dawgs! But it gets that way wiv a man
        When 'e's fair gone.
  She'll sight no stoush; an' so I have to take
  Their mag, an' do a duck fer her sweet sake.

  Fer 'er sweet sake I've gone and chucked it clean:
    The pubs an' schools an' all that leery game.
  Fer when a bloke 'as come to know Doreen,
        It ain't the same.
  There's 'igher things, she sez, for blokes to do.
  An' I am 'arf believin' that it's true.

  Yes, 'igher things—that wus the way she spoke;
    An' when she looked at me I sorter felt
  That bosker feelin' that comes o'er a bloke,
        An' makes 'im melt;
  Makes 'im all 'ot to maul 'er, an' to shove
  'Is arms about'er…Bli'me? but it's love!

  That's wot it is. An' when a man 'as grown
    Like that 'e gets a sorter yearn inside
  To be a little 'ero on 'is own;
        An' see the pride
  Glow in the e