Edgar A. Guest
Quotes by Edgar A. Guest
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A Book "Now" - said a good book unto me -"Open my pages and you shall seeJewels of wisdom and treasures fine,Gold and silver in every line,And you may claim them if you but willOpen my pages and take your fill."Open my pages and run them o'er,Take what you choose of my golden store.Be you greedy, I shall not care -All that you seize I shall gladly spare;There is never a lock on my treasure doors,Come - here are my jewels, make them yours!"I am just a book on your mantel shelf,But I can be part of your living self;If only you'll travel my pages through,Then I will travel the world with you.As two wines blended make better wine,Blend your mind with these truths of mine."I'll make you fitter to talk with men,I'll touch with silver the lines you pen,I'll lead you nearer the truth you seek,I'll strengthen you when your faith grows weak -This place on your shelf is a prison cell,Let me come into your mind to dwell!
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I have to live with myself and so, I want to be fit for myself to know.
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He was just a small church parson when the war broke out, and heLooked 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 stong man's mind.And he heard the call to duty, and he quit his church and went.And he bravely tramped right with 'em every- where the boys were sent.He put aside his broadcloth and he put the khaki on;Said he'd come to be a soldier and was going to live like one.Then he'd refereed the prize fights that the boys pulled off at night,And if no one else was handy he'd put on the gloves and fight.He wasn't there a fortnight ere he saw the sol- diers' needs,And he said: I'm done with preaching; this is now the time for deeds.He learned the sound of shrapnel, he could tell the size of shellFrom the shriek it make above him, and he knew just where it fell.In the front line trench he laboured, and he knew the feel of mud,And he didn't run from danger and he wasn't scared of blood.He wrote letters for the wounded, and he cheered them with his jokes,And he never made a visit without passing round the smokes.Then one day a bullet got him, as he knelt be- side a ladWho was going west right speedy, and they both seemed mighty glad,'Cause he held the boy's hand tighter, and he smiled and whispered low,Now you needn't fear the journey; over there with you I'll go.And they both passed out together, arm in arm I think they went.He had kept his vow to follow everywhere the boys were sent.
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I have to live with myself and so, I want to be fit for myself to know.
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He was just a small church parson when the war broke out, and heLooked 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 stong man's mind.And he heard the call to duty, and he quit his church and went.And he bravely tramped right with 'em every- where the boys were sent.He put aside his broadcloth and he put the khaki on;Said he'd come to be a soldier and was going to live like one.Then he'd refereed the prize fights that the boys pulled off at night,And if no one else was handy he'd put on the gloves and fight.He wasn't there a fortnight ere he saw the sol- diers' needs,And he said: I'm done with preaching; this is now the time for deeds.He learned the sound of shrapnel, he could tell the size of shellFrom the shriek it make above him, and he knew just where it fell.In the front line trench he laboured, and he knew the feel of mud,And he didn't run from danger and he wasn't scared of blood.He wrote letters for the wounded, and he cheered them with his jokes,And he never made a visit without passing round the smokes.Then one day a bullet got him, as he knelt be- side a ladWho was going west right speedy, and they both seemed mighty glad,'Cause he held the boy's hand tighter, and he smiled and whispered low,Now you needn't fear the journey; over there with you I'll go.And they both passed out together, arm in arm I think they went.He had kept his vow to follow everywhere the boys were sent.
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A Book "Now" - said a good book unto me -"Open my pages and you shall seeJewels of wisdom and treasures fine,Gold and silver in every line,And you may claim them if you but willOpen my pages and take your fill."Open my pages and run them o'er,Take what you choose of my golden store.Be you greedy, I shall not care -All that you seize I shall gladly spare;There is never a lock on my treasure doors,Come - here are my jewels, make them yours!"I am just a book on your mantel shelf,But I can be part of your living self;If only you'll travel my pages through,Then I will travel the world with you.As two wines blended make better wine,Blend your mind with these truths of mine."I'll make you fitter to talk with men,I'll touch with silver the lines you pen,I'll lead you nearer the truth you seek,I'll strengthen you when your faith grows weak -This place on your shelf is a prison cell,Let me come into your mind to dwell!
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It takes a heap o' livin' in a house t' make it home.
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He started to sing as he tackled the thing That couldn't be done, and he did it.
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Let me be a little kinder, Let me be a little blinder To the faults of those around me, Let me praise a little more.
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Let me be a little meeker With the brother that is weaker, Let me think more of my neighbor And a little less of me.
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I'd rather see a sermon than hear one any day; I'd rather one should walk with me than merely tell the way.
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