Edgar Albert Guest

Edgar Albert Guest

1,000 карма
United Kingdom (Great Britain)


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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