Edgar Albert Guest

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

Only A Dad - Poem by Edgar Albert Guest

Only a dad, with a tired face,
Coming home from the daily race,
Bringing little of gold or fame,
To show how well he has played the game,
But glad in his heart that his own rejoice
To see him come, and to hear his voice.

Only a dad, with a brood of four,
One of ten million men or more.
Plodding along in the daily strife,
Bearing the whips and the scorns of life,
With never a whimper of pain or hate,
For the sake of those who at home await.

Only a dad, neither rich nor proud,
Merely one of the surging crowd
Toiling, striving from day to day,
Facing whatever may come his way,
Silent, whenever the harsh condemn,
And bearing it all for the love of them.

Only a dad, but he gives his all
To smooth the way for his children small,
Doing, with courage stern and grim,
The deeds that his father did for him.
This is the line that for him I pen,
Only a dad, but the best of men.

Topic(s) of this poem: father


Comments about Only A Dad by Edgar Albert Guest

  • (8/25/2016 4:52:00 AM)


    Wow wonderfully written! I am about to cry since I remember my dad who passed away already! It is as if you are describing my own father! Thank you for writing this beautiful poem! It is heart-warming! (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Tuesday, March 3, 2015



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