Matilda was a pretty girl,
And she had flaxen hair;
And yet she used those naughty words
"I'm sure I do not care."
She once her lessons would not learn,
But talk'd about the fair,
And lost her tickets, but she said,
"I'm sure I do not care."
As she advanced to riper years,
I'm sorry to declare,
She still preserved those naughty words,
"I'm sure I do not care."
She grew a woman, and for life
'Twas time she should prepare,
But still she said "there's time enough,
If not, I do not care."
Duties neglected, warnings spurn'd,
Her mother in despair;
And though she saw the evil done,
She said, "I do not care."
Still on she went from bad to worse,
She spurned her father's prayer;
Who feared she'd find an awful end,
Because she would not care.
Afflictions came, and death in view,
Which filled her with despair;
Her God neglected, and she feared
For her He would not care.
Could you have then Matilda seen,
Or heard her broken prayer,
She urged her friends never to use
Those awful words--Don't Care.