Edgar Albert Guest

(20 August 1881 - 5 August 1959 / Birmingham / England)

Edgar Albert Guest Poems

961. Yesterday 1/1/2004
962. Show Me! 3/29/2010
963. He Who Serves 3/29/2010
964. The Little Orphan 1/1/2004
965. Myself 7/12/2014
966. Father 1/1/2004
967. A Friend 7/11/2014
968. A Father's Prayer 3/29/2010
969. Thanksgiving 1/1/2004
970. The Bachelor's Soliloquy 1/1/2004
971. A Toast To The Men 1/1/2004
972. Hard Luck 1/1/2004
973. On Quitting 1/1/2004
974. See It Through 1/1/2004

Comments about Edgar Albert Guest

  • Naomi Bigelow (2/8/2008 5:08:00 PM)

    I grew up listening to WJR radio out of Detroit; listening to Edgar A. Guest's son, Bud Guest was part of everyday life. I remember one of his dad's poems, 'Open-face Letters' as the earliest one I can recall. This man's poetry and his son's voice are some of the homey things from The Good Old Days. They influenced me to begin writing poetry, too. Although I ended up published with novels, I still write the occasional poem, partly due to the Guests.

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  • Steven Albert (10/20/2007 3:48:00 AM)

    THIS IS ONE OF THE BETTER SITES THAT I HAVE BEEN TO. I JUST SIGNED UP AND I HAVE TO EXPLORE THE SITE MORE.
    THANK YOU

    12 person liked.
    24 person did not like.
Best Poem of Edgar Albert Guest

The Bachelor's Soliloquy

To wed, or not to wed; that is the question;
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The bills and house rent of a wedded fortune,
Or to say "nit" when she proposes,
And by declining cut her. To wed; to smoke
No more; And have a wife at home to mend
The holes in socks and shirts
And underwear and so forth. 'Tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wished. To wed for life;
To wed; perchance to fight; ay, there's the rub;
For in that married life what fights may come,
When we have honeymooning ceased
Must give us pause; there's the ...

Read the full of The Bachelor's Soliloquy

A Toast To The Men

Here's to the men! Since Adam's time
They've always been the same;
Whenever anything goes wrong,
The woman is to blame.
From early morn to late at night,
The men fault-finders are;
They blame us if they oversleep,
Or if they miss a car.
They blame us if, beneath the bed,