Page:Andrew Lockhart - At the Bars of Memory.pdf/20

 

No, you didn't mean to be bad, little chap, When you uttered that cross little word; It was only a slip from an ill-guarded lip, Yet somebody was iistenin', and' heard. It hurt her a heap, 'cause I saw her tears fall She was cryin' for you, little lad; An' her poor heart was achin' an' almost breakin' Though you didn't mean to be bad.

No, you didn't mean to be bad, little chap. When you rushed off an' wouldn't be kissed; You were hustlin' to play with the gang 'cross the way, But laddie, your lips were sore missed. It hurt her a heap when you dashed through the door, An' her patient blue eyes grew so sad; She wanted to press that mother's caress— But you didn 't mean to be bad.

Oh, none o' us want to be bad, my boy. But we do an' say so many things Without thinkin' the rose a careless hand throws May be bristlin' with briars an' stings. An' many's the arrow we hurt with our might Without aim—yet long after, my lad. We find that our dart has pierced a heart— An' we didn't mean to be bad!  

I used to like to argue 'Bout tariff schedules an' planks; Cost o' home production An' the ideas o' cranks; Used to roast the durn free-traders When our wheat an' corn was sold At near starvation prices — But now I'm old!

I used to like to campaign For the grand old G. O. P.; Headed torch-light processions Since eighteen eighty-three; Smoked cigars that smelt like rubber An' drove in the rain an' cold To 'tend some rousin' rally— But now I'm old!

I've walked an' talked a heap lot For candidates galore; I've fit for Lincoln's party Ever since the Civil War; Never got a job for workin' Nor a bit o' minted gold— Just a million broken promises An' now—I'm old!