HIS LAST REGRETS
'Twas on Monday before Sunday and all through his head
Not an idea was stirring, not even a thread
Of thought for the Sunday School lesson to learn
To teach those ten boys with ambition to burn.
And Tuesday came on with a decided ambition
To study the lesson, his soul to condition.
And Wednesday slipped by with no preparation
And Thursday escaped with the same consternation.
Now Friday was here and still there was time
To get at his lesson by six fifty-nine.
But Amos 'n Andy his thoughts did envelop
And left him no time the lesson to develop.
But Saturday is free from manual care
To leave him full time his lesson to prepare.
No foolin', he'll get at his lesson tomorrow
And end the glad day with no inward sorrow.
But the day was too filled with unthought-of-chores -
The flivver to polish and other such lures
That evening came on with no preparation
To teach those ten boys 'gainst worldly temptations.
He'll wait till that evening when all through the house
Not a creature'll be stirring, not even a mouse,
His mind will be clear from annoying confusion
And the lesson he'll learn with the Spirit's infusion.
The supper now ended, the day's labour past,
He'll get at his lesson to prepare it at last
As soon as he glances at the headlines all through
To end up with Dagwood and Palooka, too.
But the day was too strenuous, the supper too good:
He soon fell asleep with no likelihood
Of getting his lesson those “rascals“ to teach
He'd try it tomorrow—his achievement to reach.
'Twas the hour before Sunday School when all through the house
Every creature was stirring, yes, even the mouse.
With full desperation he studied in vain
His thoughts to collect and the lesson to gain.
'Twas five minutes to ten and all through his heart
Condemnation was stirring in every part
The school now is over and all his week's flare
Ended up in confusion and perfect despair. ◽
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