Edgar Albert Guest Poems

My Pa can hit his thumbnail with a hammer and keep still;
He can cut himself while shaving an' not swear;
If a ladder slips beneath him an' he gets a nasty spill
...

IT doesn't seem a year ago that I was tumbling out of bed,
The icy steps that lead below at 1 a.m., barefoot, to tread,
And puttering round the kitchen stove, while chills ran up and down my form
As I stood there and waited for her bottled dinner to get warm;
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One day, in ages dark and dim,
A toiler, weary, worn and faint,
Who found his task too much for him,
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The other night 'bout two o'clock, or maybe it was three,
An elephant with shining tusks came chasing after me.
His trunk was wavin' in the air an' spoutin' jets of steam
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'Do your bit!' How cheap and trite
Seems that phrase in such a fight!
'Do your bit!' That cry recall,
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Who does his task from day to day
And meets whatever comes his way,
Believing God has willed it so.
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God grant me kindly thought
And patience through the day,
And in the things I've wrought
Let no man living say
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PROUD is the state of its millions of men,
And proud is the state of its name;
In its borders are masters of brush and of pen,
And wide as the world is its fame.
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WHEN we wuz kids together, an' we didn't have a care,
In the lazy days of summer, when our feet wuz allus bare,
When a hat warn't necessary, an' a necktie in the way,
An' there warn't a blessed thing t' do but scamper off an' play;
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GARDENING is hardening
In every way you view it;
It makes a fellow hustle,
And it strengthens every muscle;
...