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Edgar Guest - A Successful Dad
Work rating: Low

OTHERS may laugh at my feeble endeavor
To capture life`s prizes, and others may sneer;
The whole world may loudly declare I shall never
Be worthy the gunpowder to blow me from here. 
It may be I `m punk as a parlor reciter,
And when I begin grown-ups take to the woods; 
But that baby of mine! I can always delight her, 
She vows I `m a wonder, she swears I `m the goods.

It may be I can`t keep a tune for a minute,
It may be my voice wanders far from the key; 
It may be the nightingale, lark and the linnet
As songsters have quite a wide margin on me. 
Caruso and others may take down the money
For singing their ditties to high-brows, but I 
Have one little audience, cheerful and sunny,
Who `d rather hear me than the music you buy.

She thinks I `m a corker, a lalapaloosa,
She nightly applauds every stunt that I do; 
She `d rather hear me than your John Philip Sousa,
To her the old nonsense forever is new. 
That baby of mine thinks I `m great in whatever
I tackle, the moment we`ve finished our tea; 
And though others may laugh at my feeble endeavor,
The praise of my little one satisfies me.

And so though the big world goes by me unheeding,
And never a grown-up takes notice of me; 
Though into my work failure others are reading,
I `m still a success to the babe on my knee. 
When worn out and weary, my long day is ended,
And homeward I turn, I forget my distress; 
For I know that my baby still thinks I am splendid,
To her, anyhow, I `m a corking success!
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