When Day is Done

The Project Gutenberg EBook of When Day is Done, by Edgar A. Guest
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Title: When Day is Done
Author: Edgar A. Guest
Release Date: December 14, 2003 [EBook #10460]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ASCII
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WHEN DAY IS DONE
by
EDGAR A. GUEST
1921
To?S.H.D.?A real friend who never knows when day is done
INDEX
Age of Ink, The?All for the Best?Always Saying "Don't!"?Autumn Evenings?Aw Gee Whiz!
Bedtime?Better Job, The?Bob White?Book of Memory. The?Boy and His Dad, A?Boy and His Dog, A?Boy and His Stomach, A?Boy and the Flag, The?Boy O'Mine?Brothers All
Call of the Woods, The?"Carry On"?Castor Oil?Chip on Your Shoulder, The?Christmas Carol, A?Christmas Gift for Mother, The?Cleaning the Furnace?Committee Meetings?Contradictin' Joe?Cookie Jar, The?Couldn't Live Without You?Cure for Weariness, The
Dan McGann Declares Himself?Deeds of Anger, The
Family Row, A?Father's Wish, A?Feller's Hat, A?Fellowship of Books, The?Forgotten Boyhood
God Made This Day for Me?Golf Luck?Good Little Boy, The?Grate Fire, The?Green Apple Time
Happy Man, The?He's Taken Out His Papers?Home and the Office?Homely Man, The?How Do You Buy Your Money?
I Ain't Dead Yet?I'd Rather Be a Failure?If I Had Youth?If This Were All
Joys of Home, The?Joys We Miss, The?Just a Boy
Kick Under the Table, The
Leader of the Gang?Learn to Smile?Life Is What We Make It?Life's Single Standard?Little Girls Are Best?Little Wrangles?Lonely?Looking Back?Loss Is Not So Great, The?Lucky Man, The
Ma and the Ouija Board?Making of Friends, The?Memorial Day?Mother's Day?My Religion
No Better Land Than This?No Children!?No Room for Hate?Nothing to Laugh At?No Use Sighin'
Old Mister Laughter?Old Years and New
Pa and the Monthly Bills?Peaks of Valor, The?Practicing Time?Pretending Not to See
Safe at Home?Satisfied With Life?She Mothered Five?She Powders Her Nose?Simple' Things, The?Sittin' on the Porch?Song of the Builder, The?Spoiler, The?Summer Dreams
Things You Can't Forget, The?Three Me's, The?To a Little Girl?To an Old Friend?Too Big a Price?Trouble Brings Friends?True Man, The
Vanished Joy, A
"Wait Till Your Pa Comes Home"?We're Dreamers All?What Home's Intended For?What I Call Living?What Is Success??What Makes an Artist?What We Need?When Day Is Done?When Friends Drop In?When Ma Wants Something New?When Mother's Sewing Buttons On?When Sorrow Comes?When The Minister Calls?When We Play the Fool?When We're All Alike?When We Understand the Plan?Where Children Play?"Where's Mamma?"?Wide Outdoors, The?Willing Horse, The?With Dog and Gun?World and Bud, The
When Day Is Done
When day is done and the night slips down,?And I've turned my back on the busy town,?And come once more to the welcome gate?Where the roses nod and the children wait,?I tell myself as I see them smile?That life is good and its tasks worth while.
When day is done and I've come once more?To my quiet street and the friendly door,?Where the Mother reigns and the children play?And the kettle sings in the old-time way,?I throw my coat on a near-by chair?And say farewell to my pack of care.
When day is done, all the hurt and strife?And the selfishness and the greed of life,?Are left behind in the busy town;?I've ceased to worry about renown?Or gold or fame, and I'm just a dad,?Content to be with his girl and lad.
Whatever the day has brought of care,?Here love and laughter are mine to share,?Here I can claim what the rich desire--?Rest and peace by a ruddy fire,?The welcome words which the loved ones speak?And the soft caress of a baby's cheek.
When day is done and I reach my gate,?I come to a realm where there is no hate,?For here, whatever my worth may be,?Are those who cling to their faith in me;?And with love on guard at my humble door,?I have all that the world has struggled for.
The Simple Things
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,?And 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,?Nor 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.
Life Is What We Make It
Life is a jest;?Take the delight of it.?Laughter is best;?Sing through the night of it.?Swiftly the tear?And the hurt and the ache