Edgar Albert Guest Poems

  • 901.  
    DIAMONDS wouldn't tell yer all I really think of you,
    The costliest gift the goldsmith makes I'm sure would never do. There's nothing known that gold can buy that I could ever send
  • 902.  
    There's a bump on his brow and a smear on his cheek
    That is plainly the stain of his tears; At his neck there's a glorious sun-painted streak,
  • 903.  
    Once the house was lovely, but it's lonely here to-day,
    For time has come an' stained its walls an' called the young away; An' all that's left for mother an' for me till life is through
  • 904.  
    The things that haven't been done before,
    Those are the things to try; Columbus dreamed of an unknown shore
  • 905.  
    Life is a jest;
    Take the delight of it. Laughter is best;
  • 906.  
    She said she was sorry the weather was bad
    The night that she asked us to dine; And she really appeared inexpressibly sad
  • 907.  
    I've sipped a rich man's sparkling wine,
    His silverware I've handled. I've placed these battered legs of mine
  • 908.  
    The smell of arnica is strong,
    And mother's time is spent In rubbing father's arms and back
  • 909.  
    Sure, they get stubborn at times; they worry and
    fret us a lot, But I'd rather be crossed by a glad little boy
  • 910.  
    MILDRED McGee was a beautiful blond,
    As fair as peroxide could make her. She was never so shy that a man going by
  • 911.  
    Because I am his father, they
    Expect me to put grief away; Because I am a man, and rough
  • 912.  
    Each evening on my lap there climbs
    A little boy of three, And with his dimpled, chubby fists
  • 913.  
    Oh, man must dream of gladness wherever his pathways lead,
    And a hint of something better is written in every creed; And nobody wakes at morning but hopes ere the day is o'er
  • 914.  
    OTHERS may laugh at my feeble endeavor
    To capture life's prizes, and others may sneer; The whole world may loudly declare I shall never
  • 915.  
    THIS morning came a man to me, his smile was wonderful to see,
    He shook my hand and doffed his hat then promptly took a chair; Said he, ' I read your stuff each day, and I have just dropped in to say
  • 916.  
    The great were once as you.
    They whom men magnify to-day Once groped and blundered on life's way,
  • 917.  
    Some are eager to be famous, some are striving
    to be great, Some are toiling to be leaders of their nation
  • 918.  
    Once there was a boy who never
    Tore his clothes, or hardly ever, Never made his sister mad,
  • 919.  
    Come you with dangers to fright us? or hazards
    to try out our souls? Then may you find us undaunted; determined to
  • 920.  
    IN parting from a dear old friend for months, perhaps, or years,
    There's bound to be some bitter sobs, an' generally tears, An' as a rule, the lovin' ones will gather round about
  • 921.  
    The dead friends live and always will;
    Their presence hovers round us still. It seems to me they come to share
  • 922.  
    Over the hills of time to the valley of endless years;
    Over the roads of woe to the land that is free from tears Up from the haunts of men to the place where the angels are,
  • 923.  
    This I think as I go my way:
    What can matter the words I say, And what can matter the false or true
  • 924.  
    Strange thoughts come to the man alone;
    'Tis then, if ever, he talks with God, And views himself as a single clod
  • 925.  
    My Pa says that he used to be
    A bright boy in geography; An' when he went to school he knew
  • 926.  
    Last night I stood in a tawdry place
    And watched the ways of the human race. I looked at a party of shrieking girls
  • 927.  
    A man must earn his hour of peace,
    Must pay for it with hours of strife and care, Must win by toil the evening's sweet release,
  • 928.  
    OUT of the darkness and shadow of death,
    Out of the anguish that wells from the tomb, Into the splendor of spiritual breath,
  • 929.  
    One never knows
    How far a word of kindness goes; One never sees
  • 930.  
    There's nothing that builds up a toil-weary soul
    Like a day on a stream, Back on the banks of the old fishing hole
  • 931.  
    If I had youth I'd bid the world to try me;
    I'd answer every challenge to my will. Though mountains stood in silence to defy me,
  • 932.  
    The world is needing you and me,
    In places where we ought to be; Somewhere today it's needing you
  • 933.  
    IT'S easy to be right when the multitude is cheering,
    It is easy to have courage when you're fighting with the throng; But it's altogether different when the multitude is sneering
  • 934.  
    WHAT would be the use of singing songs
    If there was no little woman near to hear them? What would be the use of righting wrongs
  • 935.  
    Troubles? Sure I've lots of them,
    Got 'em heaped up by the score, Got 'em baled and bundled up,
  • 936.  
    He writes to us most every day, and how his letters thrill us!
    I can't describe the joys with which his quaint expressions fill us. He says the military life is not of his selection,
  • 937.  
    I don't see why Pa likes him so,
    And seems so glad to have him come; He jabs my ribs and wants to know
  • 938.  
    She mothered five!
    Night after night she watched a little bed, Night after night she cooled a fevered head,
  • 939.  
    Good books are friendly things to own.
    If you are busy they will wait. They will not call you on the phone
  • 940.  
    A FRIEND of mine said yesterday: 'There goes a man across the way
    Who paid ten thousand dollars for a home a week ago; He owns an automobile now, a saddle horse and keeps a cow,
  • 941.  
    When you were just our little boy, on many a night we crept
    Unto your cot and watched o'er you, and all the time you slept. We tucked the covers round your form and smoothed your pillow, too,
  • 942.  
    The Summer girl
    In peek-a-boos And open hose
  • 943.  
    What We Can Be
    We cannot all be men of fame, We cannot all be men of wealth,
  • 944.  
    He wears a long and solemn face
    And drives the children from his place; He doesn't like to hear them shout
  • 945.  
    NO MAN really knows enough
    To be hateful to his brother, None is rich enough to cuff
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,

Read complete poem

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