Section: «Poems»
Verse (ancient Greek ὁ στίχος — row, structure), a term in versification used in several meanings:
artistic speech organized by division into rhythmically commensurate segments; poetry in the narrow sense; in particular, it implies the properties of versification of a particular tradition ("antique verse", "Akhmatova's verse", etc.);
a line of poetic text organized according to a certain rhythmic pattern ("My uncle of the most honest rules").
The Home Builders
The world is filled with bustle and with selfishness and greed,It is filled with restless people that are dreaming of a deed.You can read it in their..
© Edgar Albert Guest
When Mother Sleeps
When mother sleeps, a slamming doorDisturbs her not at all;A man might walk across the floorOr wander through the hallA pistol shot outside would..
© Edgar Albert Guest
The Auto
An auto is a helpful thing;I love the way the motor hums,I love each cushion and each spring,The way it goes, the way it comes;It saves me many a..
© Edgar Albert Guest
The New Days
The old days, the old days, how oft the poets sing,The days of hope at dewy morn, the days of early spring,The days when every mead was fair, and..
© Edgar Albert Guest
The Front Seat
When I was but a little lad I always liked to ride,No matter what the rig we had, right by the driver's side.The front seat was the honor place in..
© Edgar Albert Guest
Real Swimming
I saw him in the distance, as the train went speeding by,A shivery little fellow standing in the sun to dry.And a little pile of clothing very near..
© Edgar Albert Guest
Sue's Got A Baby
Sue's got a baby now, an' sheIs like her mother used to be;Her face seems prettier, an' her waysMore settled-like. In these few daysShe's changed..
© Edgar Albert Guest
June
June is here, the month of roses, month of brides and month of bees,Weaving garlands for our lassies, whispering love songs in the trees,Painting..
© Edgar Albert Guest
The Handy Man
The handy man about the houseIs old and bent and gray;Each morning in the yard he toils,Where all the children play;Some new task every day he..
© Edgar Albert Guest
The Love Of The Game
There is too much of sighing, and weavingOf pitiful tales of despair.There is too much of wailing and grieving,And too much of railing at care.There..
© Edgar Albert Guest
The Fisherman
Along a stream that raced and ranThrough tangled trees and over stones,That long had heard the pipes o' PanAnd shared the joys that nature owns,I met..
© Edgar Albert Guest
The Other Fellow
Whose luck is better far than ours?The other fellow's.Whose road seems always lined with flowers?The other fellow's.Who is the man who seems to..
© Edgar Albert Guest
The Lure That Failed
I know a wonderful land, I said,Where the skies are always blue,Where on chocolate drops are the children fed,And coconut cookies, too;Where puppy..
© Edgar Albert Guest
The Job
The job will not make you, my boy;The job will not bring you to fameOr riches or honor or joyOr add any weight to your name.You may fail or succeed..
© Edgar Albert Guest
The Truth About Envy
I like to see the flowers grow,To see the pansies in a row;I think a well-kept garden's fine,And wish that such a one were mine;But one can't have a..
© Edgar Albert Guest
Another Mouth To Feed
We've got another mouth to feed,From out our little store;To satisfy another's needIs now my daily chore.A growing family is ours,Beyond the..
© Edgar Albert Guest
The Little Hurts
Every night she runs to meWith a bandaged arm or a bandaged knee,A stone-bruised heel or a swollen brow,And in sorrowful tones she tells me howShe..
© Edgar Albert Guest
The Little Church
The little church of Long Ago, where as a boy I satWith mother in the family pew and fumbled with my hat—How I would like to see it now the way I saw..
© Edgar Albert Guest
The Fishing Outfit
You may talk of stylish raiment,You may boast your broadcloth fine,And the price you gave in paymentMay be treble that of mine.But there's one suit..
© Edgar Albert Guest
The Summer Children
I like 'em, in the winter when their cheeks are slightly pale,I like 'em in the spring time when the March winds blow a gale;But when summer suns..
© Edgar Albert Guest
Yesterday
I've trod the links with many a man,And played him club for club;'Tis scarce a year since I beganAnd I am still a dub.But this I've noticed as we..
© Edgar Albert Guest
Sacrifice
When he has more than he can eatTo feed a stranger's not a feat.When he has more than he can spendIt isn't hard to give or lend.Who gives but what..
© Edgar Albert Guest
When Mother Cooked With Wood
I do not quarrel with the gas,Our modern range is fine,The ancient stove was doomed to passFrom Time's grim firing line,Yet now and then there comes..
© Edgar Albert Guest
A Fine Sight
I reckon the finest sight of allThat a man can see in this world of oursAin't the works of art on the gallery wall,Or the red an' white o' the fust..
© Edgar Albert Guest
Signs
It's 'be a good boy, Willie,'And it's 'run away and play,For Santa Claus is comingWith his reindeer and his sleigh.'It's 'mind what mother tells..
© Edgar Albert Guest