Conscience

‘Twas a bonnie day – and a day o’ dule
The day I plunkit the Sawbath schule !

I wan’ert awa’ ayont the knowes,
Where the bluebell blaws and the arnut grows ;
The bee on the thistle, the bird on the tree –
A’thing I saw was blithe – but me.

Weary and wae at last I sank
‘Mang the gowan beds on the railway bank –
But never a train cam whistlin’ by –
And oh ! but a lanely bairn was I.

And I joukit hame frae tree to tree –
For I kent that I was whaur I sudna be,
When I saw the bad men – the men that play
At cartes and quoits on the Sawbath Day.

But – cunnin’ wee cowart – I waitit till
It was time to skail frae the Sawbath schule ;
Naebody kent – but I kent mysel’ –
And I gaed to my bed in the fear o’ hell.

Conscience, thou Justice cauld and stern,
Aften thy sairest word I earn :
But this is a thing I’ll ne’er forgie –
It wisna fair wi’ a bairn like me.