Edgar Albert Guest Poems

  • 451.  
    'Dear Father,' he wrote me from Somewhere in France,
    Where he's waiting with Pershing to lead the advance, 'There's little the censor permits me to tell
  • 452.  
    FAME is a fickle jade at best,
    And he who seeks to win her smile Must trudge, disdaining play or rest,
  • 453.  
    If I had youth I'd bid the world to try me;
    I'd answer every challenge to my will. And though the silent mountains should defy me,
  • 454.  
    THE way to make friends is as easy
    As breathing the fresh morning air; It isn't an art to be studied
  • 455.  
    The world is full of roses, blooming red for me I and you,
    They smile a morning welcome and are wet with heavenly dew, And every oak and maple, and every apple thorn
  • 456.  
    If nobody smiled and nobody cheered and nobody helped us along,
    If each every minute looked after himself and good things all went to the strong,
  • 457.  
    For all the beauties of the day,
    The innocence of childhoodâ??s play, For health and strength and laughter sweet,
  • 458.  
    If you can smooth his path a bit,
    Bring laughter to his worried face, Restore today his stock of grit
  • 459.  
    The golden dreamboat's ready, all her silken sails are spread,
    And the breeze is gently blowing to the fairy port of Bed, And the fairy's captain's waiting while the busy sandman flies
  • 460.  
    HE WAS bo'n way down in Texas, where the sun is allus shinin'.
    An' a cloud's so thin it's easy to observe the silver linin'. An' he grew among the quaint folk an' the simple folk that labored
  • 461.  
    Who once has had a friend has found
    The link 'twixt mortal and divine; Though now he sleeps in hallowed ground,
  • 462.  
    This I would like to be- braver and bolder,
    Just a bit wiser because I am older, Just a bit kinder to those I may meet,
  • 463.  
    We have boasted our courage in moments of ease,
    Our star-spangled banner we've flung on the breeze; We have taught men to cheer for its beauty and worth,
  • 464.  
    Seemed like I couldn't stand it any more,
    The factory whistles blowin' day by day, An' men an' children hurryin' by the door,
  • 465.  
    Don't want medals on my breast,
    Don't want all the glory, I'm not worrying greatly lest
  • 466.  
    Does the grouch get richer quicker than the friendly sort of man?
    Can the grumbler labor better than the cheerful fellow can? Is the mean and churlish neighbor any cleverer than the one
  • 467.  
    I do not say new friends are not considerate and true,
    Or that their smiles ain't genuine, but still I'm tellin' you That when a feller's heart is crushed and achin' with the pain,
  • 468.  
    WHOM is your boy going to for advice?
    Tough Johnny Jones at the end of the street, Rough Billy Green or untaught Jimmy Price?
  • 469.  
    You can boast your round of pleasures, praise the sound of popping corks,
    Where the orchestra is playing to the rattle of the forks; And your after-opera dinner you may think superbly fine,
  • 470.  
    When sorrow comes, as come it must,
    In God a man must place his trust. There is no power in mortal speech
  • 471.  
    When we've honored the heroes returning from France,
    When we've mourned for the heroes who fell, When we've done all we can for the home-coming man,
  • 472.  
    There's no lock upon your door,
    And the polish that you wore In the years ago when you were bright and new
  • 473.  
    You're just a little fellow with a lot of funny ways,
    Just three-foot-six of mischief set with eyes that fairly blaze; You're always up to something with those busy hands o' yours,
  • 474.  
    â??TIS friendship's test to guard the name
    Of him you love from all attack, As you are to his face, the same
  • 475.  
    FULL many a flag the breeze has kissed;
    Through ages long the morning sun Has risen over the early mist
  • 476.  
    This I heard the Old Flag say
    As I passed it yesterday: 'Months ago your friendly hands
  • 477.  
    The little kindergarten miss,
    Source of all my joy and bliss, Every evening in the window
  • 478.  
    Seems only just a year ago that he was toddling round the place
    In pretty little colored suits and with a pink and shining face. I used to hold him in my arms to watch when our canary sang,
  • 479.  
    She never closed her eyes in sleep till we were all in bed;
    On party nights till we came home she often sat and read. We little thought about it then, when we were young and gay,
  • 480.  
    The good old-fashioned mothers and the good old-fashioned dads,
    With their good old-fashioned lassies and their good old-fashioned lads, Still walk the lanes of loving in their simple, tender ways,
  • 481.  
    The other night 'bout two o'clock, or maybe it was three,
    An elephant with shining tusks came chasing after me. His trunk was wavin' in the air an' spoutin' jets of steam
  • 482.  
    SAY, Mister Carpenter, you know, you got me spanked last night,
    I guess your Pa and Ma forgot to teach you what was right; An' I can't come here any more to watch you build that fence,
  • 483.  
    Mothers dream such splendid dreams when their little babies smile,
    Dreams of wondrous deeds they'll do in the happy after- while; Every mother of a boy knows that in her arms is curled
  • 484.  
    Who has a troop of romping youth
    About his parlour floor, Who nightly hears a round of cheers,
  • 485.  
    Last night I got to thinkin' of the pleasant long ago,
    When I still had on knee breeches, an' I wore a flowing bow, An' my Sunday suit was velvet. Ma an' Pa thought it was fine,
  • 486.  
    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,
  • 487.  
    IT 'S a wonderful world when you sum it all up,
    And we ought to be glad we are in it; The fellow who drinks from old Misery's cup
  • 488.  
    There's a twinkle in her eye,
    O, so merry! O, so sly! That you never see the wrinkles in her face;
  • 489.  
    If I had lived in Franklin's time I'm most afraid that I,
    Beholding him out in the rain, a kite about to fly, And noticing upon its tail the barn door's rusty key,
  • 490.  
    The little house has grown too small, or rather we have grown
    Too big to dwell within the walls where all our joys were known. And so, obedient to the wish of her we love so well,
  • 491.  
    The bright spots in my life are when the servant quits the place,
    Although that grim disturbance brings a frown to Nellie's face; The week between the old girl's' reign and entry of the new
  • 492.  
    He came down the stairs on the laughter-filled grill
    Where patriots were eating and drinking their fill, The tap of his crutch on the marble of white
  • 493.  
    I've watched him change from his bibs and things, from bonnets known as 'cute,'
    To little frocks, and later on I saw him don a suit; And though it was of calico, those knickers gave him joy,
  • 494.  
    I sink my piers to the solid rock,
    And I send my steel to the sky, And I pile up the granite, block by block
  • 495.  
    ACONVALESCIN' woman does the strangest sort o' things,
    An' it's wonderful the courage that a little new strength brings; O, it's never safe to leave her for an hour or two alone,
  • 496.  
    God has been good to men. He gave
    His Only Son their souls to save, And then he made a second gift,
  • 497.  
    When I was a boy, and it chanced to rain,
    Mother would always watch for me; She used to stand by the window pane,
  • 498.  
    We cannot count our friends, nor say
    How many praise us day by day. Each one of us has friends that he
  • 499.  
    I wonder where's a better job than buying cake and meat,
    And chocolate drops and sugar buns for little folks to eat? And who has every day to face a finer round of care
  • 500.  
    AIRY, fairy Lillian,
    What a naughty thing to do, By noon had read a Laura
Total 945 poems written by Edgar Albert Guest

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When Smoke Stood Up From Ludlow
 by A. E. Housman

When smoke stood up from Ludlow,
And mist blew off from Teme,
And blithe afield to ploughing
Against the morning beam
I strode beside my team,

The blackbird in the coppice
Looked out to see me stride,
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