Edgar Albert Guest

'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

The pathway of the living is our ever-present care.
Let us do our best to smooth it and to make it bright and fair;
Let us travel it with kindness, let's be careful as we tread,
And give unto the living what we'd offer to the dead.The pathway of the living we can beautify and grace;…

I've' felt some little thrills of pride, I've inwardly rejoiced
Along the pleasant lanes of life to hear my praises voiced;
No great distinction have I claimed, but in a humble way
Some satisfactions sweet have come to brighten many a day;…

Adown the lanes of memory bloom all the flowers of yesteryear,
And looking back we smile to see life's bright red roses reappear,
The little sprigs of mignonette that smiled upon us as we passed,
The pansy and the violet, too sweet, we thought those days, to last.The gentle mother by the door caresses still her lilac blooms,…

If I knew a better country in this glorious world today
Where a man's work hours are shorter and he's drawing bigger pay,
If the Briton or the Frenchman had an easier life than mine,
I'd pack my goods this minute and I'd sail across the brine.…

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;

We cannot count our friends, nor say
How many praise us day by day.
Each one of us has friends that he
Has yet to meet and really know,…

It makes me smile to hear 'em tell each other nowadays
The burdens they are bearing, with a child or two to raise.
Of course the cost of living has gone soaring to the sky
And our kids are wearing garments that my parents couldn't buy.…

We're queer folks here.
We'll talk about the weather,
The good times we have had together,
The good times near,…

Old-fashioned flowers! I love them all:
The morning-glories on the wall,
The pansies in their patch of shade,
The violets, stolen from a glade,…

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.

His eye was wild and his face was taut with anger and hate and rage,
And the things he muttered were much too strong for the ink of the printed page.
I found him there when the dusk came down, in his golf clothes still was he,
And his clubs were strewn around his feet as he told his grief to me:…

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!…

Show me the boy who never threw
A stone at someone's cat;
Or never hurled a snowball swift
At someone's high silk hat.…

The world is full of gladness,
There are joys of many kinds,
There's a cure for every sadness,
That each troubled mortal finds.

Sixteen Americans who died on the Tuscania
are buried at the water's edge at the base
of the rocky cliffs at a Scottish port. --
(News Dispatch.)Cliffs of Scotland, guard them well,…

Whose luck is better far than ours?
The other fellow's.
Whose road seems always lined with flowers?
The other fellow's.…

Don't want medals on my breast,
Don't want all the glory,
I'm not worrying greatly lest
The world won't hear my story.…

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,
But that flag was born of woman and her sufferings day and night;…

A man is at his finest towards the finish of the year;
He is almost what he should be when the Christmas season's here;
Then he's thinking more of others than he's thought the months before,
And the laughter of his children is a joy worth toiling for.…

How much grit do you think you’ve got?
Can you quit a thing that you like a lot?
You may talk of pluck; it’s an easy word,
And where’er you go it is often heard;…

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.
I am not hungry for the pomp of life's high dignities,
I do not sigh to sit among the honored LL. D.'s.…

To wed, or not to wed; that is the question;
Whether ’tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The bills and house rent of a wedded fortune,
Or to say “nit” when she proposes,…

It's good to have the trees again, the singing of the breeze again,
It's good to see the lilacs bloom as lovely as of old.
It's good that we can feel again the touch of beauties real again,
For hearts and minds, of sorrow now, have all that they can hold.The roses haven't changed a bit, nor have the lilacs stranged a bit,…