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. Thanksgiving 1/1/2004
968. A Friend 7/11/2014
969. A Father's Prayer 3/29/2010
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

  • Cynthia Mcleod (3/28/2012 8:59:00 PM)

    My favorite poem by Guest is not on here. That's such a shame. It's called Teamwork. Google it (:

    28 person liked.
    23 person did not like.
  • Roy Altemus (5/18/2010 11:04:00 PM)

    This was so appropriate for today's drivers. It was on the back of a 1949 Hudson car manual:

    COURTESY / Edgar A. Guest © 1947

    Not the “right of way” when driving, but the simple way of right and never once forgetting to be courteous and polite.
    A little bit of patience as behind the wheel you sit and you’ll never lose a fender and a child you’ll never hit.

    Oh, the worst of phrases ringing all through motordom today is that selfish bit of wording that is known as “right of way.”
    It has filled the graves of many who have sped some road along, since death never asks the question, is the driver right or wrong.

    Just a little thought for others, just remembering to be kind, just the willingness in traffic to slow down and stay behind.
    Just the show of gracious manners which all gentle folks display, and all the accidents that happen will be fewer day by day.

    Just control that flash of temper when another sounds his horn. In the car may be a mother soon to have her baby born.
    Be considerate in your driving and be courteous and be kind, and you’ll reach your dwelling safely and you’ll keep your peace of mind.

    40 person liked.
    14 person did not like.
  • 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.

    35 person liked.
    18 person did not like.
  • 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

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,
Their collar buttons roll;
They blame us if the fire is out
Or if there is no coal.
They blame us if they cut themselves
While shaving, and they swear
That we're to blame if they decide
To go upon a tear.

Here's to the ...

Read the full of A Toast To The Men

Hard Luck

Ain't no use as I can see
In sittin' underneath a tree
An' growlin' that your luck is bad,
An' that your life is extry sad;
Your life ain't sadder than your neighbor's
Nor any harder are your labors;
It rains on him the same as you,
An' he has work he hates to do;
An' he gits tired an' he gits cross,