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Edgar Guest - To The Boy
Work rating: Low

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,
  Or follow boyhood`s thoroughfares.

I crave no more of life than this:
  Continuance of such a trust;
Your smile, whate`er the morning is,
  Until my clay returns to dust.
If but this comradeship may last
  Until I end my earthly task--
Your hand and mine by love held fast--
  Fame has no charm for which I`d ask.

I would not trade one day with you
  To wear the purple robes of power,
Nor drop your hand from mine to do
  Some great deed in a selfish hour.
For you have brought me joy serene
  And made my soul supremely glad.
In life rewarded I have been;
  `Twas all worth while to be your dad.
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