Edgar Albert Guest Poems

Little lady at the altar,
Vowing by God's book and psalter
To be faithful, fond and true
Unto him who stands by you,
Think not that romance is ended,
...

The roses are bedded for winter, the tulips are planted for spring;
The robins and martins have left us; there are only the sparrows to sing.
The garden seems solemnly silent, awaiting its blankets of snow,
...

Isn't it fine when the day is done,
And the petty battles are lost or won,
When the gold is made and the ink is dried,
To quit the struggle and turn aside
...

It may be I'm old-fashioned, but the times I like the best
Are not the splendid parties with the women gaily dressed,
And the music tuned for dancing and the laughter of the throng,
With a paid comedian's antics or a hired musician's song,
...

I must get out to the woods again, to the whispering trees and the birds
awing,
Away from the haunts of pale-faced men, to the spaces wide where strength
is king;
...

Old women say that men don't know
The pain through which all mothers go,
And maybe that is true, and yet
I vow I never shall forget
...

It's funny 'bout a feller's hat-
He can't remember where it's at,
Or where he took it off, or when,
The time he's wantin' it again.
...

Jim's made good in the world out there, an' Kate has a man that's true,
No better, of course, than she deserves; she's rich, but she's happy, too;
Fred is manager, full-fledged now—he's boss of a big concern
An' I lose my breath when I think sometimes of the money that he can earn;
Clever—the word don't mean enough to tell what they really are,
...

I freely confess there are good friends of mine,
With whom we are often invited to dine,
Who get on my nerves so that I cannot eat
Or stay with my usual ease in my seat;
...

He was just a small church parson when the war broke out, and he
Looked and dressed and acted like all parsons that we see.
He wore the cleric's broadcloth and he hooked his vest behind,
...