Rich (Edgar Albert Guest Poems)
Who has a troop of romping youth About his parlour floor,Who nightly hears a round of cheers, When he is ...
Who has a troop of romping youth About his parlour floor,Who nightly hears a round of cheers, When he is ...
There are no gods that bring to youthThe rich rewards that stalwarts claim;The god of fortune is in truthA vision ...
I've sipped a rich man's sparkling wine, His silverware I've handled. I've placed these battered legs of mine 'Neath tables ...
Be a friend. You don't need money;Just a disposition sunny;Just the wish to help anotherGet along some way or other;Just ...
Old Mister Laughter Comes a-grinnin' down the way,Singin': "Never mind your troubles, For they'll surely pass away."Singin': "Now the sun ...
WHAT would be the use of singing songsIf there was no little woman near to hear them?What would be the ...
The little house is not too smallTo shelter friends who come to call.Though low the roof and small its spaceIt ...
A warm house and a ruddy fire,To what more can man aspire?Eyes that shine with love aglow,Is there more for ...
I'LL never be rich. I'm too fond of the joy Of a certain small girl And a certain small boy; ...
We can be great by helping one another; We can be loved for very simple deeds; Who has the grateful ...
I do not think all failure's undeserved, And all success is merely someone's luck; Some men are down because they ...
YOU can't pay back in dollars what your father does for you,You can't repay in kindness all the tenderness he ...
DERE never was a man on earthSo wonderful or clever,Dat ever found a way t' liveOn dis ole world forever.Dere ...
If I can leave behind me here and there A friend or two to say when I am gone That ...
I wouldn't count it worth my whileTo sing about a rich man's smile,Or quote a fellow, trouble free,An' label that ...
We cannot all be men of fame,We cannot all be men of wealth, We cannot all be known by name,We ...
The world is bright and sunny -If you haven't any money,What's the difference?Let me ask you anyhow.Let the other fellow ...
The crowded street his playground is, a patch of blue his sky; A puddle in a vacant lot his sea ...
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