Proof Reader’s Lament.
What news is this falls on my ear?
What next will to my sight appear?
My brain doth whirl, my heart doth quake—
Oh, that egregious mistake!
“Too bad! too bad!!” I hear them cry,
“You might have seen with half an eye!
Strange! passing strange!! how could you make
So plain, so blunderous a mistake!”
Ah! where it happened, when and how,
This way or that, no matter now;
Myself from blame I cannot shake—
For there it is, that sad mistake.
Guilty, condemned, I trembling stand,
With pressing cares on every hand,
Without one single plea to make,
For leaving such a bad mistake.
From morn till night, from night till morn,
At every step, weary, forlorn,
Whether I sleep, or whether wake,
I’m haunted still with a mistake.
If right, no meed of praise is won,
No more than duty then is done;
If wrong, then censure I partake,
Deserving such a gross mistake.
How long shall I o’er this bewail?
“The best,” ’tis said, “will sometimes fail;”
Must it then peace forever break—
Summed up, ’tis only a mistake.
A smile is my delight to share,
A frown is more than I can bear;
How great the sacrifice I’d make,
If I could cease from a mistake.
“I’ll try,” my motto yet shall be—
Whate’er I hear, whate’er I see,
And for my own and others’ sakes,
Look out betimes for all mistakes.