Edgar Albert Guest
Truth went forth on a search one day
I For the source of love that he might say
He had found its depth and its breadth for aye.
He met a miser, bent and old,
And his mission to him he promptly told;
'Love,' said the miser, 'is yellow gold.'
He sought a maiden, young and fair,
With orange blossoms in her hair,
Who whispered, 'My love is waiting there.'
To a struggling youth at last Truth came,
As he toiled and studied and spoke his name;
'Love,' said the youth, 'is a thing called fame.'
'Love!' mocked a man with features sour,
Before whom others were made to cower,
'Love! yes, love is worldly power.'
A pale, weak woman Truth chanced to see,
Rocking a baby on her knee;
'Only a mother knows love,' said she.
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Comments about this poem (Love by Edgar Albert Guest )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(31 October 1795 – 23 February 1821)
(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
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