Tag: Edgar A. Guest

  • Kissing Games

    From the Omaha Daily Bee, May 2, 1913.
     By Edgar A. Guest.
     
    
     I watched them playing kissing games
         And chuckled to myself
     As I recalled the days before
         Time put me on the shelf.
     I watched that roguish lad of mine
         Salute each pretty miss
     With all the gusto that I showed
         When I was wont to kiss.
     
     But I am on the sidelines now
         And he is in the game
     And he is hugging pretty girls
         With eyes and cheeks aflame.
     And there’s no special one to pout
         Or raise a fuss when he
     Distributes his affections thus
         The way there is with me.
     
     What though he kiss a dozen maids
         And give them all a squeeze,
     Nobody sternly says to him:
         “What means this conduct, please?”
     Nobody stamps a pretty foot
         At him or starts to cry
     But this will come, when these glad years
         Of youth have wandered by.
     
     “Just like his dad,” I hear her say,
         And note her gentle smile;
     And I retort, “This freedom will
         But last a little while.
     Perhaps one of these lassies sweet
         Will some day rule his life
     And yet I hope, that like his dad
         He’ll choose as good a wife.”
  • Courage

    From the New York Tribune, October 15, 1912.
    By Edgar A. Guest.
     
    
     Discouraged, eh? The world looks dark,
       And all your hopes have gone astray;
     Your finest shots have missed the mark,
       You’re heartsick and discouraged, eh?
     
     Plans that you built from all went wrong,
       You cannot seem to find the way
     And it seems vain to plod along,
       You’re heartsick and discouraged, eh?
     
     Take heart! Each morning starts anew,
       Return unto the battle line;
     Against far greater odds than you
       Brave men have fought with courage fine.
     
     Despite the buffetings of fate,
       They’ve risen, time and time again,
     To stand, face front and shoulders straight
       As leaders of their fellow men.
     
     And you, now blinded by despair,
       Heartsick and weary of the fight,
     On every hand beset by care,
       Can, if you will, attain the light.