Why is Sarah standing there,
Leaning down upon a chair,
With such an angry lip and brow?
I wonder what's the matter now.
Come here my dear and tell me true,
It is because I spoke to you
About the work you'd done so slow,
That you are standing fretting so?
Why then, indeed, I'm grieved to see,
That you can so ill-tempered be:
You make your fault a great deal worse
By being angry and perverse.
Oh! how much better 'twould appear,
To see you shed a humble tear,
And then to hear you meekly say,
"I'll not do so another day."