Roget's Int'l Thesaurus
Fowler's King's English
The King James Bible
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Frazer's Golden Bough
Shelf of Fiction
Robert Louis Stevenson
A Childs Garden of Verses and Underwoods
> XIV. My Conscience!
Stevenson, Robert Louis
A Childs Garden of Verses and Underwoods.
a the ills that flesh can bear,
The loss o friens, the lack o gear,
A yowlin tyke, a glandered mear,
A lassies nonsense
Theres just ae thing I cannae bear,
An thats my conscience.
Whan day (an a excüse) has gane,
An wark is düne, and dutys plain,
An to my chalmer a my lane
I creep apairt,
My conscience! hoo the yammerin pain
Stends to my heart!
A day wi various ends in view,
The hairsts o time I had to pu,
An made a hash wad staw a soo,
Let be a man!
My conscience! whan my hans were fu,
Whaur were ye then?
An there were a the lures o life,
There pleesure skirlin on the fife,
There anger, wi the hotchin knife
Ground shairp in Hell
My conscience!you thats like a wife
Whaur was yoursel?
I ken it fine: just waitin here,
To gar the evil waur appear,
To clart the guid, confüse the clear,
Misca the great,
My conscience! an to raise a steer
When as ower late.
Sic-like, some tyke grawn auld and blind,
Whan thieves brok through the gear to pind,
Has lain his dozened length an grinned
At the disaster;
An the morns mornin, wuds the wind,
Yokes on his master.
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