Edgar Albert Guest

Edgar Albert Guest

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Edgar Albert Guest (20 August 1881 – 5 August 1959) was a British-born American poet who was popular in the first half of the 20th century and became known as the People's Poet. His poems often had an inspirational and optimistic view of everyday life.
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I stood and watched him playing,    A little lad of three,
And back to me came straying    The years that used to be;
In him the boy was Maying    Who once belonged to me
The selfsame brown his eyes were    As those that once I knew;
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Things Work Out

Because it rains when we wish it wouldn't,
Because men do what they often shouldn't,
Because crops fail, and plans go wrong-Some of us grumble all day long
But somehow, in spite of the care and doubt,
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My father knows the proper way The nation should be run;
He tells us children every day Just what should now be done
He knows the way to fix the trusts, He has a simple plan;
But if the furnace needs repairs, We have to hire a man...
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Figure it out for yourself, my lad,
You've all that the greatest of men have had,
Two arms, two hands, two legs, two eyes,
And a brain to use if you would be wise
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Can't is the worst word that's written or spoken;
Doing more harm here than slander and lies;
On it is many a strong spirit broken,
And with it many a good purpose dies
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The Chaplain

He was just a small church parson when the war broke out, and
Looked and dressed and acted like all parsons that we see
He wore the cleric's broadcloth and he hooked his vest behind,
But he had a man's religion and he had a strong m...
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When Father Shook The Stove

'Twas not so many years ago,
Say, twenty-two or three,
When zero weather or below Held many a thrill for me
Then in my icy room I slept A youngster's sweet repose,
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Memorial Day

The finest tribute we can
Unto our hero dead to-day,
Is not a rose wreath, white and red,
In memory of the blood they shed;
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The Broken Drum

There is sorrow in the household;
There's a grief too hard to bear;
There's a little cheek that's
There's a sobbing baby there
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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, Thoughtless and selfish, her Master was I
Oh, the long nights that she came at my call to me
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Lemon Pie

The world is full of gladness, There are joys of many kinds,
There's a cure for every sadness, That each troubled mortal finds
And my little cares grow lighter And I cease to fret and sigh,
And my eyes with joy grow brighter When sh...
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My grandpa is the finest
Excep' my pa
My grandpa
Make kites an' carts an' lots of
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James Whitcomb Riley

There must be great rejoicin' on the Golden Shore to-day,
An' the big an' little angels must be feelin' mighty gay:
Could we look beyond the curtain now I fancy we should see Old Aunt Mary waitin', smilin', for the coming that's to be,
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Its September

It's September, and the orchards are afire with red and gold,
And the nights with dew are heavy, and the morning's sharp with cold;
Now the garden's at its gayest with the salvia blazing red And the good old-fashioned asters laughing at ...
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He was going to be all that a mortal should be      Tomorrow
No one should be kinder or braver than he      Tomorrow
A friend who was troubled and weary he knew,
Who'd be glad of a lift and who needed it, too;
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Life is a gift to be used every day,
Not to be smothered and hidden away;
It isn't a thing to be stored in the
Where you gather your keepsakes and treasure your best;
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