Edgar A. Guest

“ You will hear your baby saying,
"Mamma, come to me, I'm staying
With my arms outstretched to greet you,"
And you'll understand it all.
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To the Boy
I have no wish, my little lad,
To climb the towering heights of fame.
I am content to be your dad
And share with you each pleasant game.
I am content to hold your hand
And walk along life's path with you,
And talk of things we understand—
The birds and trees and skies of blue.
Though some may seek the smiles of kings,
For me your laughter's joy enough;
I have no wish to claim the things
Which lure men into pathways rough. ”

“ For the greatest of man's duties is to keep his loved ones glad
And to have his children glory in the father they have had.
So where'er a man may wander, and whatever be his care,
You'll find his soul still stretching to the home he left somewhere.
You'll find his dreams all tangled up with hollyhocks in bloom,
And the feet of little children that go racing through a room,
With the happy mother smiling as she watches them at play—
These are all in life that matter, when you've stripped the sham away. ”

“ That the eyes of youth scarce notice and the poets seldom pen.
Age will tell you that the memory is the treasure-house of man.
Gold and fleeting fame may vanish, but life's riches never can;
For the little home of laughter and the voice of every friend
And the joys of real contentment linger with us to the end.
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My Job
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
Than buying frills and furbelows for little folks to wear? ”

“ That can rest a weary pilgrim like the little place called home.
Men have sought for gold and silver; men have dreamed at night of fame;
In the heat of youth they've struggled for achievement's honored name;
But the selfish crowns are tinsel, and their shining jewels paste,
And the wine of pomp and glory soon grows bitter to the taste.
For there's never any laughter, howsoever far you roam,
Like the laughter of the loved ones in the happiness of home. ”

“ The laughter of the children shapes the destiny of man.
The Comedian
Whatever the task and whatever the risk, wherever the flag's in air,
The funny man with his sunny ways is sure to be laughing there.
There are men who fret, there are men who dream, men making the best of it,
But whether it's hunger or death they face,
Or burning thirst in a desert place,
There is always one, by the good Lord's grace,
Who is making a jest of it.
He travels wherever his brothers go and he leaves his home behind him,
The need for smiles he seems to know; in the ranks of death you'll find him. ”

“ The glory of a purpose true,
High courage in the stress of strife,
And peace when every task is through.
Nor class nor caste nor race nor creed,
Nor greater might can take away
The splendor of an honest deed.
Who nobly serves from day to day
Shall walk the road of life with pride,
With friends who recognize his worth,
For never are these joys denied
Unto the humblest man on earth.
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Not all may rise to world-wide fame,
Not all may gather fortune's gold,
Not all life's luxuries may claim ”

“ When you are in the company of good old first-name friends.
The happiest men on earth are not the men of highest rank;
That joy belongs to George, and Jim, to Henry and to Frank;
With them the prejudice of race and creed and wealth depart,
And men are one in fellowship and always light of heart.
So I would live and laugh and love until my sun descends,
And share the joyous comradeship of honest first-name friends. ”

“ The honors of war to its heroes go; for them are the pomp and glory,
But seldom it is that the types relate a victory's inside story.
And few shall know when the strife is done and the history's made hereafter,
How much depended on him who stirred
The souls of men with a cheerful word,
And kept them brave by a jest absurd,
And brightened their days with laughter.
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Faith
It is faith that bridges the land of breath
To the realms of the souls departed,
That comforts the living in days of death,
And strengthens the heavy-hearted. ”

“ You may tell with eyes aglow of the public men you know,
127 But the true friends seldom travel glory's ways,
And the day you're lying ill, lonely, pale and keeping still,
With a fevered pulse, that's beating double quick,
Then it is you must depend on the old-familiar friend
To come to call upon you when you're sick.
It is pleasing to receive a great man's nod,
And it's good to know the big men of the land,
But the test of friendship true, isn't merely: "Howdy-do?" ”

“ In comfort most luxurious in that old wooden tub.
But modern homes no more go through that joyous weekly fun,
And through the sitting rooms at night no half-dried children run;
No little flying forms go past, too swift to see their charms,
With shirts and underwear and things tucked underneath their arms;
The home's so full of luxury now, it's almost like a club,
I sometimes wish we could go back to that old wooden tub. ”

“ I rather like the job I have, though humble it may be,
And little gold or little fame may come from it to me;
It seems to me that life can give to man no finer joy
Than buying little breeches for a sturdy little boy. ”

“ The good old-fashioned mother and the good old-fashioned dad.
There are some who sigh for riches, there are some who yearn for fame,
And a few misguided people who no longer blush at shame;
But the world is full of mothers, and the world is full of dads;
Who are making sacrifices for their little girls and lads.
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They are growing old together, arm in arm they walk along,
And their hearts with love are beating and their voices sweet with song ”

“ As that the doctor brings from God—that message: "It's a boy!"
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The Finest Fellowship
There may be finer pleasures than just tramping with your boy,
And better ways to spend a day; there may be sweeter joy;
There may be richer fellowship than that of son and dad,
But if there is, I know it not; it's one I've never had.
Oh, some may choose to walk with kings and men of pomp and pride,
But as for me, I choose to have my youngster at my side.
And some may like the rosy ways of grown-up pleasures glad,
But I would go a-wandering with just a little lad. ”

“ Our laughter and our bit of care;
They glory, as they used to do,
When we are splendid men and true,
In all the joy that we have won,
And they are proud of what we've done.
They suffer when we suffer woe ”

“ Toys are made for children's fun,
101 Very frail and quickly done,
And who keeps them long to view,
Bright of paint and good as new,
Robs himself and other boys
Of their swiftly passing joys.
So he looked upon a toy
When our soldier was a boy;
And somehow to-day we're glad
That the tokens of our lad
And the trinkets that we keep
Are a broken, battered heap.
Life itself is but a toy
Filled with duty and with joy ”

“ Down to work o' mornings, an' back to home at nights,
Down to hours o' labor, an' home to sweet delights;
Down to care an' trouble, an' home to love an' rest,
With every day a good one, an' every evening blest.
Down to dreary dollars, an' back to home to play,
From love to work an' back to love, so slips the day away.
From babies back to business an' back to babes again,
From parting kiss to welcome kiss, this marks the march o' men.
Some care between our laughter, a few hours filled with strife,
A time to stand on duty, then home to babes and wife ”

“ To speak to man the happiest phrase that's sounded: "It's a boy!"
I wish 'twere given me to speak a message half so glad
115 As that the doctor brings unto the fear-distracted dad.
I wish that simple words of mine could change the skies to blue,
And lift the care from troubled hearts, as those he utters do.
I wish that I could banish all the thoughts that man annoy,
And cheer him as the doctor does, who whispers: "It's a boy." ”

“ But I'd rather be worried by youngsters of mine than lonely and childless and sad.
So I try to be patient and calm whenever they're having their fling;
For the sum of their laughter and love is more than the worry they bring. ”

“ But look to ma for action.
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Back Home
Glad to get back home again,
Where abide the friendly men;
Glad to see the same old scenes
And the little house that means
All the joys the soul has treasured—
Glad to be where smiles aren't measured,
Where I've blended with the gladness
All the heart has known of sadness,
Where some long-familiar steeple
Marks my town of friendly people.
Though it's fun to go a-straying
Where the bands are nightly playing
And the throngs of men and women
Drain the cup of pleasure brimmin',
I am glad when it is over
That I've ceased to play the Rover. ”

“ You shall hear them gayly singing as the dreamboat's putting in.
Like the ripple of the water does the dreamboat's whistle blow,
Only baby ears can catch it when it comes the time to go,
Only little ones may journey on so wonderful a ship,
And go drifting off to slumber with no care to mar the trip.
Oh, the little eyes are heavy but the little soul is light;
It shall never know a sorrow or a terror through the night. ”

“ There are little eyes upon you, and they're watching night and day;
There are little ears that quickly take in every word you say;
There are little hands all eager to do everything you do,
And a little boy that's dreaming of the day he'll be like you. ”

“ Inside their hungry little selves a piece of bread an' jam.
I wish I was a Whittier, a Stevenson or Burns,
I wouldn't write of hills an' brooks, or mossy banks or ferns,
I wouldn't write of rolling seas or mountains towering high,
But I would sing of chocolate cake an' good old apple pie,
An' best of all the food there is, beyond the slightest doubt,
Is bread an' jam we always get as soon as school is out. ”

“ The innocent dead from the sea shall rise to stand at the wise man's side,
And over his shoulder a boy shall look—a boy that was crucified.
You may guard the doors of that council hall with barriers strong and stout,
But the dead unbidden shall enter there, and never you'll shut them out.
And the man that died in the open boat, and the babes that suffered worse,
Shall sit at the table when peace is made by the side of a martyred nurse.
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You may see them not, but they'll all be there; when they speak you may fail to hear ”

“ Can stop most any time in June an' hear the robins' melody.
I stand an' watch them in the sun, usin' their gifts from day to day,
Swellin' their little throats with song, regardless of man's praise or pay;
Jes' bein' robins, nothing else, nor claiming greatness for their deeds,
But jes' content to gratify one of the big world's many needs,
Singin' a lesson to us all to be ourselves and scatter cheer
By usin' every day the gifts God gave us when He sent us here.
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Why should we keep our talents hid, or think we favor men because
We use the gifts that God has given? ”

“ So never I walk in the garden alone, for I feel that the mother's still there.
"These are the pinks that a baby once kissed, still spicy with fragrance an' fair.
The years have been long since her laughter I've missed, but her spirit is hovering there.
The roses that ramble and twine on the wall were planted by one that was kind
An' I'm sure as I stand here an' gaze on them all, that his soul has still lingered behind.
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"I'm never alone in the garden," he said, "I have many to talk with an' see,
For never a flower comes to bloom in its bed, but it brings back a loved one to me. ”

“ That is watching every movement as she makes an angel food;
For I know that little angels, as we used to do, await
The moment when she lets them lick the icing spoon and plate.
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The Gift of Play
Some have the gift of song and some possess the gift of silver speech,
Some have the gift of leadership and some the ways of life can teach.
And fame and wealth reward their friends; in jewels are their splendors told,
But in good time their favorites grow very faint and gray and old.
But there are men who laugh at time and hold the cruel years at bay ”

“ They tell our worth and speak our praise
And for their service ask no fee;
They choose to be our friends, although
We have not learned to call them so.
We cannot guess how large the debt
We owe to friends we have not met.
We only know, from day to day,
That we discover here and there
How one has tried to smooth our way,
And ease our heavy load of care,
Then passed along and left behind
His friendly gift for us to find.
44
First Name Friends
Though some may yearn for titles great, and seek the frills of fame,
I do not care to have an extra handle to my name. ”

“ Will endeavor to be just the sort of a man that he's wantin' his baby to be.
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A feller don't think that it matters so much what he does till a baby arrives;
He sows his wild oats an' he has his gay fling an' headlong in pleasure he dives;
An' a drink more or less doesn't matter much then, for life is a comedy gay,
But the moment a crib is put in the home, an' a baby has come there to stay,
He thinks of the things he has done in the past, an' it strikes him as hard as a blow,
That the path he has trod in the past is a path that he don't want his baby to go. ”

“ Now I turn an' see them smilin' an' I hear their merry laughter,
An' I'm glad to bear the burdens for the ones that follow after.
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"It's a Boy"
The doctor leads a busy life, he wages war with death;
Long hours he spends to help the one who's fighting hard for breath;
He cannot call his time his own, nor share in others' fun,
His duties claim him through the night when others' work is done.
And yet the doctor seems to be God's messenger of joy,
Appointed to announce this news of gladness: "It's a boy!" ”