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Edgar Guest - A Real Man
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Men are of two kinds, and he 
Was of the kind I`d like to be. 
Some preach their virtues, and a few 
Express their lives by what they do. 
That sort was he. No flowery phrase 
Or glibly spoken words of praise 
Won friends for him. He wasn`t cheap 
Or shallow, but his course ran deep, 
And it was pure. You know the kind. 
Not many in a life you find 
Whose deeds outrun their words so far 
That more than what they seem they are. 

There are two kinds of lies as well: 
The kind you live, the ones you tell. 
Back through his years from age to youth 
He never acted one untruth. 
Out in the open light he fought 
And didn`t care what others thought 
Nor what they said about his fight 
If he believed that he was right. 
The only deeds he ever hid 
Were acts of kindness that he did. 

What speech he had was plain and blunt. 
His was an unattractive front. 
Yet children loved him; babe and boy 
Played with the strength he could employ, 
Without one fear, and they are fleet 
To sense injustice and deceit. 
No back door gossip linked his name 
With any shady tale of shame. 
He did not have to compromise 
With evil-doers, shrewd and wise, 
And let them ply their vicious trade 
Because of some past escapade. 

Men are of two kinds, and he 
Was of the kind I`d like to be. 
No door at which he ever knocked 
Against his manly form was locked. 
If ever man on earth was free 
And independent, it was he. 
No broken pledge lost him respect, 
He met all men with head erect, 
And when he passed, I think there went 
A soul to yonder firmament 
So white, so splendid and so fine 
It came almost to God`s design.
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