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Edgar Guest - Men And Dreamers
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IT`S one o` my idees that men ain`t all of fightin` stock, 
They ain`t all built fer ploughin` or fer hewin` out a rock; 
An` they ain`t all made fer battlin` up against life`s steady stream, 
There must be some of us on earth God put here jes` to dream; 
Leastwise it strikes me that way — if it wasn`t so, I guess, 
Instead o` dreamin` here I `d be out hustlin` fer success.

There`s men that`s fond o` money and there`s men in love with fame,
An` there`s others seekin` glory an` a great an` honored name;
There`s men that`s built fer fightin`, men who love to plan an` scheme,
Men that`s born with love o` conquest, an` there`s men that love to dream;
Men who `d rather spend a life time where the roses bloom and nod
Than win prizes on the highways where the fightin` brothers plod.

Folks may call me shiftless, maybe, an` may sneer when they go by 
In their autos big an` splendid, while I`m gazin` at the sky, 
An` perhaps they think I envy `em the luxuries they know. 
But I don`t. My soul don`t need `em, an` I `d gladly tell `em so.
Fer I `m happier with the roses, an` the hollyhocks an` trees 
Than I would be makin` money — that is why I take my ease.
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