Edgar Albert Guest Poems

Because I am his father, they
Expect me to put grief away;
Because I am a man, and rough
And sometimes short of speech and gruff,
...

There are no gods that bring to youth
The rich rewards that stalwarts claim;
The god of fortune is in truth
A vision and an empty name.
...

Days are gettin' shorter an' the air a keener snap;
Apples now are droppin' into Mother Nature's lap;
The mist at dusk is risin' over valley, marsh an' fen
...

You can boast your round of pleasures, praise the sound of popping corks,
Where the orchestra is playing to the rattle of the forks;
And your after-opera dinner you may think superbly fine,
...

'The world is against me,' he said with a sigh.
'Somebody stops every scheme that I try.
The world has me down and it's keeping me there;
...

The roads of happiness are not
The selfish roads of pleasure seeking,
Where cheeks are flushed with haste and hot
...

If I had hatred in my heart toward my fellow man,
If I were pressed to do him ill, to conjure up a plan
To wound him sorely and to rob his days of all their joy,
I'd wish his wife would go away and take their little boy.
...

Who is it lives to the full every minute,
Gets all the joy and the fun that is in it?
Tough as they make 'em, and ready to race,
...

Something to talk about, something to do,
Something to laugh at the whole day through,
Something to look at with pride and with glee,
Something for friends to come in just to see;
...

You may brag about your breakfast foods you eat at break of day,
Your crisp, delightful shavings and your stack of last year's hay,
Your toasted flakes of rye and corn that fairly swim in cream,
...