Father is Very Sorry

Father is Very Sorry

My little angel, my dear son,
I’m sorry for what is done
Since your fault deserved not
Punishment of that sort.

See, I acted like a brute,
I cared not for the fruit.
Now I am myself again,
My equipoise I have regained.

Alas! I wish to wipe out the blot
When you said, “Dad beat me not,
I will not do so again;
For God’s’ sake, leave the cane.”

Your frail legs shook with fear,
I went on boxing your ears.
My fists were shaking in rage,
I allowed not you to raise

A cry against my cruelty
For which now I pay the penalty;
My own hand is paining me yet,
More than your tears, I shed my sweat.

Ah, that moment gives me pain
When I could not spare the cane.
I subdued your surging sobs,
When you fainted, I stopped.

Your words now I remember,
I see you still tremble.
Have you dreamt horrible dream,
Or my cane still you feel?

Ah! I could avoid that beating,
Had I reasoned out the things;
I would not have to repent,
Had you been good and I, tolerant.

But I did not spare you then,
Though you begged my pardon.
I still see fingers on your cheeks,
I just heard you sob in sleep.

Your sob has shaken my soul,
I sit beside your bed in remorse;
You know not how much I feel,
To beg your pardon, here I kneel.

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