#MIDDLEBURY
Only a Dad
Edgar Guest
Only a dad with a tired face,
Coming home from the daily race,
Bringing little of gold or fame,
To show how well he has played the game,
But glad in his heart that his own rejoice
To see him come and to hear his voice.
Only a dad with a brood of four,
One of ten million men or more.
Plodding along in the daily strife,
Bearing the whips and the scorns of life,
With never a whimper of pain or hate,
For the sake of those who at home await.
Only a dad, neither rich nor proud,
Merely one of the surging crowd
Toiling, striving from day to day,
Facing whatever may come his way,
Silent, whenever the harsh condemn,
And bearing it all for the love of them.
Only a dad but he gives his all
To smooth the way for his children small,
Doing, with courage stern and grim,
The deeds that his father did for him.
This is the line that for him I pen:
Only a dad, but the best of men.
About this poem
“Only a Dad” was published in “A Heap o’ Livin'” (The Reilly & Lee Co., 1916).
About Edgar Guest
Edgar Guest was born on Aug. 20, 1881, in Birmingham, England. His collections of poetry include “Just Folks” (The Reilly & Lee Co., 1917) and “When Day Is Done” (The Reilly & Lee Co., 1921). He died on Aug. 5, 1959.
The Academy of American Poets is a nonprofit, mission-driven organization, whose aim is to make poetry available to a wider audience. Email The Academy at poem-a-day@poets.org.
This poem is in the public domain. Originally published in Poem-a-Day, www.poets.org. Distributed by King Features Syndicate.
