The Common Touch
I would not be too wise - so very wise
That I must sneer at simple songs and creeds,
And let the glare of wisdom blind my eyes
To humble people and their humble needs.
I would not care to climb so high that I
Could never hear the children at their play,
Could only see the people passing by,
Yet never hear the cheering words they say.
I would not know too much - too much to smile
At trivial errors of the heart and hand,
Nor be too proud to play the friend the while,
And cease to help and know and understand.
I would not care to sit upon a throne,
Or build my house upon a mountain-top.
Where I must dwell in glory all alone
And never friend come in or poor man stop.
God grant that I may live upon this earth
And face the tasks which every morning brings,
And never lose the glory and the worth
Of humble service and the simple things.
By Edgar A. Guest
Edgar Albert ‘Eddie’ Guest was born on 20 August 1881 in Birmingham, England. He immigrated with his family to the United States of America in 1891. From his first published work in the “Detroit Free Press” until his passing in 1959, he penned some 11,000 poems that were syndicated in 300 newspapers and collected into more than twenty books. Mr. Guest is reputed to have had a new poem published in a newspaper every day for more than thirty years. He became known as ‘The People’s Poet,’ writing poems that were of a sentimental and optimistic nature. Edgar Albert ‘Eddie’ Guest passed on at 77 years of age on 5 August 1959 in Detroit, Michigan, United States of America.
I would not be too wise - so very wise
That I must sneer at simple songs and creeds,
And let the glare of wisdom blind my eyes
To humble people and their humble needs.
I would not care to climb so high that I
Could never hear the children at their play,
Could only see the people passing by,
Yet never hear the cheering words they say.
I would not know too much - too much to smile
At trivial errors of the heart and hand,
Nor be too proud to play the friend the while,
And cease to help and know and understand.
I would not care to sit upon a throne,
Or build my house upon a mountain-top.
Where I must dwell in glory all alone
And never friend come in or poor man stop.
God grant that I may live upon this earth
And face the tasks which every morning brings,
And never lose the glory and the worth
Of humble service and the simple things.
By Edgar A. Guest
Edgar Albert ‘Eddie’ Guest was born on 20 August 1881 in Birmingham, England. He immigrated with his family to the United States of America in 1891. From his first published work in the “Detroit Free Press” until his passing in 1959, he penned some 11,000 poems that were syndicated in 300 newspapers and collected into more than twenty books. Mr. Guest is reputed to have had a new poem published in a newspaper every day for more than thirty years. He became known as ‘The People’s Poet,’ writing poems that were of a sentimental and optimistic nature. Edgar Albert ‘Eddie’ Guest passed on at 77 years of age on 5 August 1959 in Detroit, Michigan, United States of America.
To Thine Own Self Be True
By thine own soul’s law learn to live,
And if men thwart thee take no heed,
And if men hate thee have no care;
Sing thou thy song and do thy deed.
Hope thou thy hope and pray thy prayer,
And claim no crown they will not give,
Nor bays they grudge thee for thy hair.
Keep thou thy soul-worn steadfast oath,
And to thy heart be true thy heart;
What thy soul teaches learn to know,
And play out thine appointed part,
And thou shalt reap as thou shalt sow,
Nor helped nor hindered in thy growth,
To thy full stature thou shalt grow.
Fix on the future’s goal thy face,
And let thy feet be lured to stray
Nowhither, but be swift to run,
And nowhere tarry by the way,
Until at last the end is won
And thou mayst look back from thy place
And see thy long day’s journey done.
By Pakenham Beatty
Pakenham Thomas Beatty was born on 23 June 1855 in Maranhão, Brazil, as a son of Pakenham William Beatty, a merchant hailing from Mount Pleasant, Dundalk, County Louth, Ireland. He became a poet, and resided with his wife Edith ‘Ida’ Beatty (maiden name Dowling) in Middlesex, England. He is known for three volumes of verse, “To My Lady” (1879), “Three Women of the People” (1881) and “Spretae Carmina Musae” (1893), among other works. Pakenham Thomas Beatty passed at 74 years of age in April 1930 in County Louth, Ireland.
By thine own soul’s law learn to live,
And if men thwart thee take no heed,
And if men hate thee have no care;
Sing thou thy song and do thy deed.
Hope thou thy hope and pray thy prayer,
And claim no crown they will not give,
Nor bays they grudge thee for thy hair.
Keep thou thy soul-worn steadfast oath,
And to thy heart be true thy heart;
What thy soul teaches learn to know,
And play out thine appointed part,
And thou shalt reap as thou shalt sow,
Nor helped nor hindered in thy growth,
To thy full stature thou shalt grow.
Fix on the future’s goal thy face,
And let thy feet be lured to stray
Nowhither, but be swift to run,
And nowhere tarry by the way,
Until at last the end is won
And thou mayst look back from thy place
And see thy long day’s journey done.
By Pakenham Beatty
Pakenham Thomas Beatty was born on 23 June 1855 in Maranhão, Brazil, as a son of Pakenham William Beatty, a merchant hailing from Mount Pleasant, Dundalk, County Louth, Ireland. He became a poet, and resided with his wife Edith ‘Ida’ Beatty (maiden name Dowling) in Middlesex, England. He is known for three volumes of verse, “To My Lady” (1879), “Three Women of the People” (1881) and “Spretae Carmina Musae” (1893), among other works. Pakenham Thomas Beatty passed at 74 years of age in April 1930 in County Louth, Ireland.
Live Your Best Life
It only takes a moment
To stop and take a breath
To take in all the sights, and sounds
To enjoy all life has to give.
Don’t take time for granted
Because it quickly slips away
Years cannot be promised
So enjoy every single day.
Time and life are precious
And we only get one chance
To live life to its fullest
To live in happiness.
Live your best life
Starting with today
Make sure it’s a happy one
Every step of the way.
By Author Unknown
It only takes a moment
To stop and take a breath
To take in all the sights, and sounds
To enjoy all life has to give.
Don’t take time for granted
Because it quickly slips away
Years cannot be promised
So enjoy every single day.
Time and life are precious
And we only get one chance
To live life to its fullest
To live in happiness.
Live your best life
Starting with today
Make sure it’s a happy one
Every step of the way.
By Author Unknown
Pluck
There’s no thrill in easy sailing when the skies are clear and blue,
There’s no joy in merely doing things which any one can do,
But there is some satisfaction that is mighty sweet to take
When you reach a destination that you never thought you’d make.
So when everything’s against you and your plans are going wrong,
Just face the situation and keep moving right along -
Don’t sit down and wail and whimper, even though you may be stuck,
You’re not absolutely helpless if you still possess your pluck.
When things are running crosswise and the engine’s out of gear,
When the road is rough and rocky and the sky is far from clear,
When you’re plainly up against it and you’re surely out of luck,
That’s the time to use your courage and to show your stock of pluck.
Most any one can travel on a road that’s smooth and clear,
And any one can get there is he only has to steer;
But when the motor’s balky and you’re running in the muck,
If you’re ever going to get there you must call upon your pluck.
By Edgar A. Guest (1920)
Edgar Albert ‘Eddie’ Guest was born on 20 August 1881 in Birmingham, England. He immigrated with his family to the United States of America in 1891. From his first published work in the “Detroit Free Press” until his passing in 1959, he penned some 11,000 poems that were syndicated in 300 newspapers and collected into more than twenty books. Mr. Guest is reputed to have had a new poem published in a newspaper every day for more than thirty years. He became known as ‘The People’s Poet,’ writing poems that were of a sentimental and optimistic nature. Edgar Albert ‘Eddie’ Guest passed on at 77 years of age on 5 August 1959 in Detroit, Michigan, United States of America.
There’s no thrill in easy sailing when the skies are clear and blue,
There’s no joy in merely doing things which any one can do,
But there is some satisfaction that is mighty sweet to take
When you reach a destination that you never thought you’d make.
So when everything’s against you and your plans are going wrong,
Just face the situation and keep moving right along -
Don’t sit down and wail and whimper, even though you may be stuck,
You’re not absolutely helpless if you still possess your pluck.
When things are running crosswise and the engine’s out of gear,
When the road is rough and rocky and the sky is far from clear,
When you’re plainly up against it and you’re surely out of luck,
That’s the time to use your courage and to show your stock of pluck.
Most any one can travel on a road that’s smooth and clear,
And any one can get there is he only has to steer;
But when the motor’s balky and you’re running in the muck,
If you’re ever going to get there you must call upon your pluck.
By Edgar A. Guest (1920)
Edgar Albert ‘Eddie’ Guest was born on 20 August 1881 in Birmingham, England. He immigrated with his family to the United States of America in 1891. From his first published work in the “Detroit Free Press” until his passing in 1959, he penned some 11,000 poems that were syndicated in 300 newspapers and collected into more than twenty books. Mr. Guest is reputed to have had a new poem published in a newspaper every day for more than thirty years. He became known as ‘The People’s Poet,’ writing poems that were of a sentimental and optimistic nature. Edgar Albert ‘Eddie’ Guest passed on at 77 years of age on 5 August 1959 in Detroit, Michigan, United States of America.
It’s Not Enough
It’s not enough to have a dream,
unless you’re willing to pursue it.
It’s not enough to know what’s right,
unless you’re strong enough to do it.
It’s not enough to learn the truth,
unless you also learn to live it.
It’s not enough to reach for love,
unless you care enough to give it.
By Samuel Smiles
Samuel Smiles was born on 23 December 1812 in Haddington, East Lothian, Scotland. He was a Scottish physician and self-help writer. He is known as the author of “Self-Help” (1859), “Character” (1871), “Thrift” (1875), “Duty” (1880), and “Life and Labour” (1887). Samuel Smiles passed on at 91 years of age on 16 April 1904 in Kensington, London, England.
It’s not enough to have a dream,
unless you’re willing to pursue it.
It’s not enough to know what’s right,
unless you’re strong enough to do it.
It’s not enough to learn the truth,
unless you also learn to live it.
It’s not enough to reach for love,
unless you care enough to give it.
By Samuel Smiles
Samuel Smiles was born on 23 December 1812 in Haddington, East Lothian, Scotland. He was a Scottish physician and self-help writer. He is known as the author of “Self-Help” (1859), “Character” (1871), “Thrift” (1875), “Duty” (1880), and “Life and Labour” (1887). Samuel Smiles passed on at 91 years of age on 16 April 1904 in Kensington, London, England.
Do It Now!
If you’ve got a job to do,
Do it now!
If it’s one you wish were through,
Do it now!
If you’re sure the job’s your own,
Just tackle it alone;
Don’t hem and haw and groan -
Do it now!
Don’t put off a bit of work,
Do it now!
It doesn’t pay to shirk,
Do it now!
If you want to fill a place,
And be useful to the race,
Just get up and take a brace -
Do it now!
Don’t linger by the way,
Do it now!
You’ll lose if you delay,
Do it now!
If the other fellows wait,
Or postpone until it’s late,
You hit up a faster gait -
Do it now!
by Anton Gurski: as published in “Boys’ Life” (February 1929) magazine, page 42
Anton Gurski lived in Sapton, Manitoba, Canada at one time, and was a Lone Scout in the Boy Scouts youth organization.
If you’ve got a job to do,
Do it now!
If it’s one you wish were through,
Do it now!
If you’re sure the job’s your own,
Just tackle it alone;
Don’t hem and haw and groan -
Do it now!
Don’t put off a bit of work,
Do it now!
It doesn’t pay to shirk,
Do it now!
If you want to fill a place,
And be useful to the race,
Just get up and take a brace -
Do it now!
Don’t linger by the way,
Do it now!
You’ll lose if you delay,
Do it now!
If the other fellows wait,
Or postpone until it’s late,
You hit up a faster gait -
Do it now!
by Anton Gurski: as published in “Boys’ Life” (February 1929) magazine, page 42
Anton Gurski lived in Sapton, Manitoba, Canada at one time, and was a Lone Scout in the Boy Scouts youth organization.
Stick To Your Task
Stick to your task till it sticks to you;
Beginners are many, but enders are few.
Honor, power, place, and praise
Will always come to the one who stays.
Stick to your task till it sticks to you;
Bend at it, sweat at it, smile at it, too;
For out of the bend and the sweat and the smile
Will come life’s victories, after a while.
By Author Unknown: as published in Jack M. Lyon and others, editors: “Best-Loved Poems of the LDS People” (1 November 1996), pages 255 and 256
Stick to your task till it sticks to you;
Beginners are many, but enders are few.
Honor, power, place, and praise
Will always come to the one who stays.
Stick to your task till it sticks to you;
Bend at it, sweat at it, smile at it, too;
For out of the bend and the sweat and the smile
Will come life’s victories, after a while.
By Author Unknown: as published in Jack M. Lyon and others, editors: “Best-Loved Poems of the LDS People” (1 November 1996), pages 255 and 256
Hope
Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches on the soul
And sings the tune without the words
And never stops - at all
And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.
I’ve heard it in the chillest land,
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.
By Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson was born on 10 December 1830 in Amherst, Massachusetts, United States of America. Though considered one of the great poets, she was shy and reclusive. She never married, seldom left her house, and had few visitors. Only seven of her nearly 1,800 poems were published during her lifetime, all anonymously. Emily Dickinson passed on at 55 years of age on 15 May 1886 in Amherst, Massachusetts, United States of America. The first collection of her verse, titled “Poems,” was published four years later.
Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches on the soul
And sings the tune without the words
And never stops - at all
And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.
I’ve heard it in the chillest land,
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.
By Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson was born on 10 December 1830 in Amherst, Massachusetts, United States of America. Though considered one of the great poets, she was shy and reclusive. She never married, seldom left her house, and had few visitors. Only seven of her nearly 1,800 poems were published during her lifetime, all anonymously. Emily Dickinson passed on at 55 years of age on 15 May 1886 in Amherst, Massachusetts, United States of America. The first collection of her verse, titled “Poems,” was published four years later.
A Vow
I might not ever scale the mountain heights
Where all the great men stand in glory now;
I may not ever gain the world’s delights
Or win a wreath of laurel for my brow;
I may not gain the victories that men
Are fighting for, nor do a thing to boast of
I may not get a fortune here, but then,
The little that I have I’ll make the most of.
I’ll make my little home a palace fine,
My little patch of green a garden fair,
And I shall know each humble plant and vine
As rich men know their orchid blossoms rare.
My little home may not be much to see;
Its chimneys may not tower far above;
But it will be a mansion great to me,
For in its walls I’ll keep a hoard of love.
I will not pass my modest pleasures by
To grasp at shadows of more splendid things,
Disdaining what of joyousness is nigh
Because I am denied the joy of kings.
But I will laugh and sing my way along,
I’ll make the most of what is mine today,
And if I never rise above the throng,
I shall have lived a full life anyway.
by Edgar A. Guest
Edgar Albert ‘Eddie’ Guest was born on 20 August 1881 in Birmingham, England. He immigrated with his family to the United States of America in 1891. From his first published work in the “Detroit Free Press” until his passing in 1959, he penned some 11,000 poems that were syndicated in 300 newspapers and collected into more than twenty books. Mr. Guest is reputed to have had a new poem published in a newspaper every day for more than thirty years. He became known as ‘The People’s Poet,’ writing poems that were of a sentimental and optimistic nature. Edgar Albert ‘Eddie’ Guest passed on at 77 years of age on 5 August 1959 in Detroit, Michigan, United States of America.
I might not ever scale the mountain heights
Where all the great men stand in glory now;
I may not ever gain the world’s delights
Or win a wreath of laurel for my brow;
I may not gain the victories that men
Are fighting for, nor do a thing to boast of
I may not get a fortune here, but then,
The little that I have I’ll make the most of.
I’ll make my little home a palace fine,
My little patch of green a garden fair,
And I shall know each humble plant and vine
As rich men know their orchid blossoms rare.
My little home may not be much to see;
Its chimneys may not tower far above;
But it will be a mansion great to me,
For in its walls I’ll keep a hoard of love.
I will not pass my modest pleasures by
To grasp at shadows of more splendid things,
Disdaining what of joyousness is nigh
Because I am denied the joy of kings.
But I will laugh and sing my way along,
I’ll make the most of what is mine today,
And if I never rise above the throng,
I shall have lived a full life anyway.
by Edgar A. Guest
Edgar Albert ‘Eddie’ Guest was born on 20 August 1881 in Birmingham, England. He immigrated with his family to the United States of America in 1891. From his first published work in the “Detroit Free Press” until his passing in 1959, he penned some 11,000 poems that were syndicated in 300 newspapers and collected into more than twenty books. Mr. Guest is reputed to have had a new poem published in a newspaper every day for more than thirty years. He became known as ‘The People’s Poet,’ writing poems that were of a sentimental and optimistic nature. Edgar Albert ‘Eddie’ Guest passed on at 77 years of age on 5 August 1959 in Detroit, Michigan, United States of America.
Your Choices Will Determine Your Success
Choose to not live a life of mediocrity.
Choose to not argue about trivial things.
Choose to not worry, fret, or cry about small injustices.
Choose to not let others control your destiny.
Choose to never give up.
Choose to guard you integrity.
Choose to be punctual, orderly, and diligent.
Choose to believe in yourself.
Choose to live a life of action, not words.
Choose to practice, drill, and rehearse.
Choose to be a positive person.
Choose to never quit learning.
And by making these choices, you have now chosen to be successful.
By Author Unknown
Choose to not live a life of mediocrity.
Choose to not argue about trivial things.
Choose to not worry, fret, or cry about small injustices.
Choose to not let others control your destiny.
Choose to never give up.
Choose to guard you integrity.
Choose to be punctual, orderly, and diligent.
Choose to believe in yourself.
Choose to live a life of action, not words.
Choose to practice, drill, and rehearse.
Choose to be a positive person.
Choose to never quit learning.
And by making these choices, you have now chosen to be successful.
By Author Unknown
