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His Dog Post by :rushtheweb Category :Poems Author :Edgar A. Guest Date :October 2011 Read :1200

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His Dog

Pete bristles when the doorbell rings.
Last night he didn't act the same.
Dogs have a way of knowin' things,
An' when the dreaded cable came,
He looked at mother an' he whined
His soft, low sign of somethin' wrong,
As though he knew that we should find
The news that we had feared so long.

He's followed me about the place
An' hasn't left my heels to-day;
He's rubbed his nose against my face
As if to kiss my grief away.
There on his plate beside the door
You'll see untouched his mornin' meal.
I never understood before
That dogs share every hurt you feel.

We've got the pride o' service fine
As consolation for the blow;
We know by many a written line
He went the way he wished to go.
We know that God an' Country found
Our boy a servant brave an' true--
But Pete must sadly walk around
An' miss the master that he knew.

The mother's bearing up as well
As such a noble mother would;
The hurt I feel I needn't tell--
I guess by all it's understood.
But Pete--his dog--that used to wait
Each night to hear his cheery call,
An' romped about him at the gate,
Has felt the blow the worst of all.

(The end)
Edgar A. Guest's poem: His Dog

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Lullaby Lullaby

The golden dreamboat's ready, all her silken sails are spread,And the breeze is gently blowing to the fairy port of Bed,And the fairy's captain's waiting while the busy sandman fliesWith the silver dust of slumber, closing every baby's eyes.Oh, the night is rich with moonlight and the sea is calm with peace,And the angels fly to guard you and their watch shall never cease,And the fairies there await you; they have splendid dreams to spin;You shall hear them gayly singing as the dreamboat's putting in.Like the ripple of the water does the dreamboat's whistle blow,Only baby ears can catch it when

To The Boy To The Boy

To The Boy
I have no wish, my little lad, To climb the towering heights of fame.I am content to be your dad And share with you each pleasant game.I am content to hold your hand And walk along life's path with you,And talk of things we understand-- The birds and trees and skies of blue.Though some may seek the smiles of kings, For me your laughter's joy enough;I have no wish to claim the things Which lure men into pathways rough.I'm happiest when you and I, Unmindful of life's bitter cares,Together watch the clouds drift by,