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Poem by Edgar Albert Guest


A Toast to the Men


    Dedicated to the Women

Here’s to the men! Since Adam’s time
      They’ve always been the same;
Whenever anything goes wrong,
      The woman is to blame.
From early morn to late at night,
      The men fault-finders are;
They blame us if they oversleep,
      Or if they miss a car.
They blame us if, beneath the bed,
      Their collar buttons roll;
They blame us if the fire is out
      Or if there is no coal.
They blame us if they cut themselves
      While shaving, and they swear
That we’re to blame if they decide
      To go upon a tear.

Here’s to the men, the perfect men!
      Who never are at fault;
They blame us if they chance to get
      The pepper for the salt.
They blame us if their business fails,
      Or back a losing horse;
And when it rains on holidays
      The fault is ours, of course.
They blame us when they fall in love,
      And when they married get;
Likewise they blame us when they’re sick,
      And when they fall in debt.
For everything that crisscross goes
      They say we are to blame;
But, after all, here’s to the men,
      We love them just the same!



Edgar Albert Guest


Edgar Albert Guest's other poems:
  1. Laughter
  2. The Home Builders
  3. Home (It takes a heap o’ livin’ in a house t’ make it home)
  4. The Handy Man
  5. The Boy Soldier


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