Edgar Albert Guest Poems

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,
...

We're gittin' so we need again
To see the sproutin' seed again.
We've been shut up all winter long
Within our narrow rooms;
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Father's in the woodshed,
Cleaning forty fish;
Mother's in the kitchen,
Washing every dish;
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The sweetest soul I ever knew
I Had suffered untold sorrow,
Had wept full many a long night through
And feared the dark tomorrow.
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COME here to me, little lassie of three,
And get in your place on your old daddy's knee,
Put those chubby arms round where they nightly belong
And cling to my neck, for the day has gone wrong
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Old Mister Laughter
Comes a-grinnin' down the way,
Singin': 'Never mind your troubles,
For they'll surely pass away.'
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Whatever the task and whatever the risk, wherever
the flag's in air,
The funny man with his sunny ways is sure to
be laughing there.
...

The whistle sounds! The game is o'er!
We pay our tribute now with tears
Instead of smiling eyes and cheers.
Neil Snow has crossed the line once more.
...

When Pa came home last night he had a package in his hand,
Now Ma,' said he, 'I've something here which you will say is grand.
A friend of mine got home today from hunting in the woods,
He's been away a week or two, and got back with the goods.
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THE way to make friends is as easy
As breathing the fresh morning air;
It isn't an art to be studied
...