At the Bars of Memory and Other Poems/You Didn't Mean to Be Bad
YOU DIDN'T MEAN TO BE BAD
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!