Some things there are I must not do;
To self I must not be untrue.
I must not for for a profit’s sake
A false or mean advantage take,
Or risk an everlasting stain
For selfish pride or paltry gain.

I must not thoughtlessly deride
The things which are my neighbor’s pride,
Or hold my head so high that he
May fear to make a friend of me.
I must not, though it be my right,
Disturb his comfort, day or night.

I must not disregard life’s laws,
Or think myself secure because
The vile may prosper and the cheat
May seem to flourish in deceit.
If happiness I hope to reap.
Both health and honor I must keep.

Lord, when temptation comes along,
‘Tis then I pray Thee, make me strong.
Let neither fame, nor wealth or prize,
To what is manly blind my eyes.
Let it be said, when life is through,
Some things there were I would not do.

“The Things I Must Not Do” from The Light of Faith by Edgar Guest

This was a man who wrote poetry and was often called the “poet of the plain people.” He preferred to be known as a newspaperman. He was a reporter, exchange editor, and a columnist at the Detroit Free Press before devoting his life to poetry. But his poetry is his legacy. He died August 5th, 1959 having written over 30,000 verses.

When Hubby and I became engaged, he gave me a book of poetry which contained Guest’s verse. I confess I had always been a Byron, Keats, Shelley and Shakespeare girl. But when I read Guest, I fell in love with a new man. A man who could talk about values without making me feel that I needed to translate when I read it.

Oh I’m not saying that I love Byron, Keats, Shelley and Shakespeare any less… I’m just saying that when the day is done, and it’s been one of those ugly days that took me places I would rather not have gone, Guest seems to understand and can give me the hug I need when such is necessary. Here is the poem of Guest’s that is my favorite; Hubby had it done up in bronze and it now hangs in the library by the flag that honored my father at his funeral. Here it is:

The Effort by Edgar A. Guest

When man has done his level best,
I fancy God is satisfied.
He need not be in splendor dressed,
Known north and south and east and west,
Nor tread the paths of pride;
If he is earnest in the test,
God knows how hard he tried.

Not all the good men rise to fame,
Nor all the kings are crowned.
Full many a long forgotten name
Has borne life’s battle but to claim
An unremembered mound.
And men from men have suffered blame
When God no fault has found.

‘Tis fine to do the splendid deed
‘Tis sweet to reach the goal.
But oft the dreams of men may lead
Them past their strength to fall and bleed,
And failure signs the scroll.
But ’tis not said we must succeed
To make the perfect soul.

When man has done his level best,
I fancy God is satisfied,
Though night shall find him
Sore distressed,
Beset by cares, by men oppressed,
His victory denied.
God knows how cruel was the test
And just how hard he tried!

In closing I will share one little personal experience… I was in this silly romantic place in my head… the one all husbands hate their wives to travel to… I looked into my Hubby’s face and asked him to recite a poem for me. I knew that he could easily do this since he knows MANY of them. His eyes shot to the ceiling clearly saying, “Why does she do this!” Then he grinned and recited this in soft tones…

There was a young girl from Madras,
Who had a magnificent ass.
Not pretty and pink as you probably think,
It was gray, had long ears and ate grass!

May laughter fill your heart as well as this did mine.
May you always smile inside and out.

Best… Carolyn Thomas Temple