I
might have been rich if I'd wanted the gold
instead
of the friendships I've made.
I
might have had fame if I'd sought for renown
in
the hours when I purposely played.
Now
I'm standing to-day on the far edge of life,
and
I'm just looking backward to see
What
I've done with the years and the days that were mine,
and
all that has happened to me.
I
haven't built much of a fortune to leave
to
those who shall carry my name,
And
nothing I've done shall entitle me now
to
a place on the tablets of fame.
But
I've loved the great sky and its spaces of blue;
I've
lived with the birds and the trees;
I've
turned from the splendor of silver and gold
to
share in such pleasures as these.
I've
given my time to the children who came;
together
we've romped and we've played,
And
I wouldn't exchange the glad hours spent
with
them for the money that I might have made.
I
chose to be known and be loved by the few,
and
was deaf to the plaudits of men;
And
I'd make the same choice should the chance
come
to me to live my life over again.
I've
lived with my friends and I've shared in their joys,
known
sorrow with all of its tears;
I
have harvested much from my acres of life,
though
some say I've squandered my years.
For
much that is fine has been mine to enjoy,
and
I think I have lived to my best,
And
I have no regret, as I'm nearing the end,
for
the gold that I might have possessed.
by Edgar A. Guest
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