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Edgar Guest - Autumn Evenings
Work rating: Low

Apples on the table an` the grate-fire blazin` high,
Oh, I`m sure the whole world hasn`t any happier man than I;
The Mother sittin` mendin` little stockin`s, toe an` knee,
An` tellin` all that`s happened through the busy day to me:
Oh, I don`t know how to say it, but these cosy autumn nights
Seem to glow with true contentment an` a thousand real delights.

The dog sprawled out before me knows that huntin` days are here,
`Cause he dreams and seems to whimper that a flock o` quail are near;
An` the children playin` checkers till it`s time to go to bed,
Callin` me to settle questions whether black is beatin` red;
Oh, these nights are filled with gladness, an` I puff my pipe an` smile,
An` tell myself the struggle an` the work are both worth while.

The flames are full o` pictures that keep dancin` to an` fro,
Bringin` back the scenes o` gladness o` the happy long ago,
An` the whole wide world is silent an` I tell myself just this--
That within these walls I cherish, there is all my world there is!
Can I keep the love abiding in these hearts so close to me,
An` the laughter of these evenings, I shall gain life`s victory.
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