Oh! anger is an evil thing
And spoils the fairest face;
It cometh like a rainy cloud
Upon a sunny place.
One angry moment often does
What we repent for years:
It works the wrong we ne'er make right
By sorrow or tears.
It speaks the rude and cruel word
That wounds a feeling breast:
It strikes the reckless sudden blow--
It breaks the household rest.
We dread the dog that turns in play,
All snapping, fierce and quick;
We shun the steed whose temper shows
In strong and savage kick.
But how much more we find to blame,
When passion wildly swells
In hearts where kindness has been taught,
And brains where reason dwells!
The hand of peace is frank and warm
And soft as a ring-dove's wing;
And he who quells an angry thought
Is greater than a king.
Shame to the lips that ever seek
To stir up jarring strife,
When gentleness would shed so much
Of Christian joy through life!
Ever remember in thy youth,
That he who firmly tries
To conquer an to rule himself,
Is noble, brave and wise.