---

Edgar Guest - A Vow
Work rating: Low

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 to-day, 
And if I never rise above the throng,
I shall have lived a full life anyway.
Source
The script ran 0.001 seconds.