• Author: Riley, James Whitcomb
• Editor: B-7413
• Newspaper: The Umpire volume 5
• Page Number:
• Date: 9 20 1916
• Tags:
• poetry

MY CONSCIENCE

Sometimes my Conscience, says he “Don’t you know me?’’ And I, says I, skeered through and through, “Of course I do. You are a nice chap ever’ way, I'm here to say! You make me cry—you make me pray, And all of them good things that a-way That is, at night. Where do you stay Durin’ the day!”’

And then my Conscience sort of grits His teeth and spits On his two hands and grabs, of course, Some old remorse, And beats me with big butt-end O’ that thing—’tel my closest friend 'Ud hardly know me. ‘‘Now,’’ says he, “Be keerful as you’d orto be And Allus think o’ me!”

—James Whitcomb Riley.