Edgar Albert Guest Poems

  • 501.  
    Little lady at the altar,
    Vowing by God's book and psalter To be faithful, fond and true
  • 502.  
    We've raised a flagpole on the farm
    And flung Old Glory to the sky, And it's another touch of charm
  • 503.  
    No war is won by cannon fire alone;
    The soldier bears the grim and dreary role; He dies to serve the Flag that he has known;
  • 504.  
    June is here, the month of roses, month of brides and month of bees,
    Weaving garlands for our lassies, whispering love songs in the trees, Painting scenes of gorgeous splendor, canvases no man could brush,
  • 505.  
    IF you like a brother here,
    Tell him so; If you hold his friendship dear,
  • 506.  
    When mother baked an angel cake we kids would gather round
    An' watch her gentle hands at work, an' never make a sound; We'd watch her stir the eggs an' flour an' powdered sugar, too,
  • 507.  
    I saw him in the distance, as the train went speeding by,
    A shivery little fellow standing in the sun to dry. And a little pile of clothing very near him I could see:
  • 508.  
    No use frettin' when the rain comes down,
    No use grievin' when the gray clouds frown, No use sighin' when the wind blows strong,
  • 509.  
    To-day it's dirt and dust and steam,
    To-morrow it will be the same, And through it all the soul must dream
  • 510.  
    There are noises that freeze up the blood,
    There's the sound of the burglar at night As he's picking the lock, and the thud
  • 511.  
    When winter shuts a fellow in and turns the lock upon his door,
    There's nothing else for him to do but sit and dream his bygones o'er. And then before an open fire he smokes his pipe, while in the blaze
  • 512.  
    Last night Pa said to Ma: 'My dear, it's gettin' on to fall,
    It's time I did a little job I do not like at all. I wisht 'at I was rich enough to hire a man to do
  • 513.  
    A boy and his dad on a fishing trip-
    There is a glorious fellowship! Father and son and the open sky,
  • 514.  
    HE took off his hat to the woman next door,
    But he wouldn't do that for his wife; He picked up the handkerchief dropped Jon the floor,
  • 515.  
    O, SAD and solemn holy day,
    O, bitterest of bitter hours! Behold He staggers on His way
  • 516.  
    I think my country needs my vote,
    I know it doesn't need my throat, My lungs and larynx, too;
  • 517.  
    The boys upon the honor roll, God bless them all, I pray!
    God watch them when they sleep at night, and guard them through the day. We've stamped their names upon our walls, the list in glory grows,
  • 518.  
    I never knew the joy of getting home,
    I never knew how fast a heart could beat; I never tasted joy,
  • 519.  
    Looks as though a cyclone hit himâ??
    Can't buy clothes that seem to fit him; An' his cheeks are rough like leather,
  • 520.  
    His mother's eyes are saddened, and her cheeks
    are stained with tears, And I'm facing now the struggle that I've
  • 521.  
    JUST about the time the clouds are blackest
    Let your thoughts go roving to the sun, Just about the time your job is hardest
  • 522.  
    The road to laughter beckons me,
    The road to all that's best; The home road where I nightly see
  • 523.  
    Little woman, hourly sitting,
    Something for a soldier knitting, What in fancy can you see?
  • 524.  
    GOOD, kindly Mother Nature plays
    No favorites, but smiles for all Who care to tread her pleasant ways
  • 525.  
    Oh, make us worthy,
    God, we pray, To do thy service
  • 526.  
    When I was but a little lad I always liked to ride,
    No matter what the rig we had, right by the driver's side. The front seat was the honor place in bob-sleigh, coach or hack,
  • 527.  
    If never a sorrow came to us,
    and never a care we knew; If every hope were realized,
  • 528.  
    Old Mister Laughter
    Comes a-grinnin' down the way, Singin': 'Never mind your troubles,
  • 529.  
    Mine is a song of hope
    For the days that lie before; For the grander things
  • 530.  
    You do not know it, little man,
    In your summer coat of tan And your legs bereft of hose
  • 531.  
    Sittin' on the porch at night when all the tasks are done,
    Just restin' there an' talkin', with my easy slippers on, An' my shirt band thrown wide open an' my feet upon the rail,
  • 532.  
    The little path that leads to home,
    That is the road for me, I know no finer path to roam,
  • 533.  
    The house is as it was when she was here;
    There's nothing changed at all about the place; The books she loved to read are waiting near
  • 534.  
    We're hiking along at a two-forty pace
    We 're making life seem like a man-killing race, With our nerves all on edge and our jaws firmly set
  • 535.  
    I do not think all failure's undeserved,
    And all success is merely someone's luck; Some men are down because they were unnerved,
  • 536.  
    The handy man about the house
    Is old and bent and gray; Each morning in the yard he toils,
  • 537.  
    How fine it is at night to say:
    'I have not wronged a soul to-day. I have not by a word or deed,
  • 538.  
    A feller isn't thinkin' mean,
    Out fishin'; His thoughts are mostly good an' clean,
  • 539.  
    I care not who the man may be,
    Nor how his tasks may fret him, Nor where he fares, nor how his cares
  • 540.  
    There's a battered old drum on the floor,
    And a Teddy bear sleeps in my chair, There's a doll carriage barring the door;
  • 541.  
    Never a sigh for the cares that she bore for me
    Never a thought of the joys that flew by; Her one regret that she couldn't do more for me,
  • 542.  
    I follow a famous father,
    His honor is mine to wear; He gave me a name that was free from shame,
  • 543.  
    'Do your bit!' How cheap and trite
    Seems that phrase in such a fight! 'Do your bit!' That cry recall,
  • 544.  
    GIUSEPPE TOMASSI ees stylisha chap,
    He wear da white collar an' cuff, He says: 'For expanse I no giva da rap,
  • 545.  
    I must get out to the woods again, to the whispering tree, and the birds a-wing,
    Away from the haunts of pale-faced men, to the spaces wide where strength is king; I must get out where the skies are blue and the air is clean and the rest is sweet,
  • 546.  
    I will lend you, for a little time,
    A child of mine, He said. For you to love the while he lives,
  • 547.  
    Perhaps the victory shall not come to me,
    Perhaps I shall not reach the goal I seek, It may be at the last I shall be weak
  • 548.  
    When the burden grows heavy, and rough is the way,
    When you falter and slip, and it isn't your day, And your best doesn't measure to what is required,
  • 549.  
    The walls have seemed to say to me
    Where have the sticky fingers gone That always found their way to me,
  • 550.  
    The mother on the sidewalk as the troops are marching by
    Is the mother of Old Glory that is waving in the sky. Men have fought to keep it splendid, men have died to keep it bright,
Total 945 poems written by Edgar Albert Guest

Poem of the day

To One Away
 by Sara Teasdale

I heard a cry in the night,
A thousand miles it came,
Sharp as a flash of light,
My name, my name!

It was your voice I heard,
You waked and loved me so-
I send you back this word,
...

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