---

Edgar Guest - The Deeds Of Anger
Work rating: Low

I used to lose my temper an` git mad an` tear around
An` raise my voice so wimmin folks would tremble at the sound;
I`d do things I was ashamed of when the fit of rage had passed,
An` wish I hadn`t done `em, an` regret `em to the last;
But I`ve learned from sad experience how useless is regret,
For the mean things done in anger are the things you can`t forget.

`Tain`t no use to kiss the youngster once your hand has made him cry;
You`ll recall the time you struck him till the very day you die;
He`ll forget it an` forgive you an` to-morrow seem the same,
But you`ll keep the hateful picture of your sorrow an` your shame,
An` it`s bound to rise to taunt you, though you long have squared the debt,
For the things you`ve done in meanness are the things you can`t forget.

Lord, I sometimes sit an` shudder when some scene comes back to me,
Which shows me big an` brutal in some act o` tyranny,
When some triflin` thing upset me an` I let my temper fly,
An` was sorry for it after--but it`s vain to sit an` sigh.
So I`d be a whole sight happier now my sun begins to set,
If it wasn`t for the meanness which I`ve done an` can`t forget.

Now I think I`ve learned my lesson an` I`m treadin` gentler ways,
An` I try to build my mornings into happy yesterdays;
I don`t let my temper spoil `em in the way I used to do
An` let some splash of anger smear the record when it`s through;
I want my memories pleasant, free from shame or vain regret,
Without any deeds of anger which I never can forget.
Source
The script ran 0.001 seconds.