Edgar Albert Guest

Life ~ A Poem by Edgar Albert Guest

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Life’s No Dress Rehearsal—So Belt Out the Ballad, Dance Through the Drama, and Frost Your Cake With Joy. Dive into Edgar Albert Guest’s stirring poem Life, a timeless reminder that while grief may knock, joy still sings. This post explores how laughter, perseverance, and soulful choices shape the lives we live.

Life

Edgar Albert Guest

Life is a jest;
  Take the delight of it.
Laughter is best;
  Sing through the night of it.
Swiftly the tear
  And the hurt and the ache of it
Find us down here;
  Life must be what we make of it.

Life is a song;
  Let us dance to the thrill of it.
Grief’s hours are long,
  And cold is the chill of it.
Joy is man’s need;
  Let us smile for the sake of it.
This be our creed:
  Life must be what we make of it.

Life is a soul;
  The virtue and vice of it.
Strife for a goal,
  And man’s strength is the price of it.
Your life and mine,
  The bare bread and the cake of it,
End in this line:
  Life must be what we make of it.

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Reflection:

Edgar Guest invites us into life’s full theater—where comedy, tragedy, and soulful striving share the same stage. In just three stanzas, he reminds us that tears are real, but so is laughter, and while pain can linger, joy is essential. His refrain, “Life must be what we make of it,” isn’t just advice—it’s a challenge to create meaning, to choose beauty, and to craft a life that sings even in minor chords.

🧐 Three Questions to Deepen the Reader’s Experience:

  1. Which line from the poem echoes your current stage of life—the laughter, the ache, the goal, or the creed?
  2. If “life must be what we make of it,” what’s one deliberate change you could make today to shape your life more intentionally?
  3. How does the interplay between joy and grief in the poem mirror your own experience of resilience?

New Podcast: Driving Trail Ridge Road and What It Taught Me About the Grieving Journey

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What do a dizzying mountain road and the journey through grief have in common? In this episode, Ray shares a harrowing drive across Trail Ridge Road—the highest continuous paved road in North America—and how the experience mirrors the unpredictable, breath-stealing terrain of grief. With wit, heart, and the poetic strength of Edgar Albert Guest’s See It Through, you’ll be reminded that no matter how treacherous the climb, healing is not only possible—it’s inevitable. Pull over, take a breath, and get ready to feel seen. This is the episode your heart didn’t know it needed.

🔑 5 Salient Points:

  • Grief can feel like altitude sickness—sudden, disorienting, and difficult to breathe through, much like the thin air on Trail Ridge Road.
  • Rest areas matter—just like scenic pullouts on a steep drive, we need emotional space to pause, reflect, and regain our balance.
  • Lack of guardrails = emotional risk—there are moments in grief when we feel vulnerable and unsupported, yet we keep moving forward.
  • Perspective is healing—stepping back to see the “view” of our grief journey helps us realize how far we’ve come.
  • Grief is survivable—like cresting a mountain summit, there comes a day when you can look back and say with quiet strength, “I made it.”

All For the Best ~ Edgar Albert Guest

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All For the Best

Edgar Albert Guest

Things mostly happen for the best.
However hard it seems to-day,
When some fond plan has gone astray
Or what you’ve wished for most is lost
An’ you sit countin’ up the cost
With eyes half-blind by tears o’ grief
While doubt is chokin’ out belief,
You’ll find when all is understood
That what seemed bad was really good.

Life can’t be counted in a day.
The present rain that will not stop
Next autumn means a bumper crop.
We wonder why some things must be–
Care’s purpose we can seldom see–
An’ yet long afterwards we turn
To view the past, an’ then we learn
That what once filled our minds with doubt
Was good for us as it worked out.

I’ve never known an hour of care
But that I’ve later come to see
That it has brought some joy to me.
Even the sorrows I have borne,
Leavin’ me lonely an’ forlorn
An’ hurt an’ bruised an’ sick at heart,
In life’s great plan have had a part.
An’ though I could not understand
Why I should bow to Death’s command,
As time went on I came to know
That it was really better so.

Things mostly happen for the best.
So narrow is our vision here
That we are blinded by a tear
An’ stunned by every hurt an’ blow
Which comes to-day to strike us low.
An’ yet some day we turn an’ find
That what seemed cruel once was kind.
Most things, I hold, are wisely planned
If we could only understand.

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Today’s Poem: On Quitting by Edgar Albert Guest

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On Quitting

Edgar Albert Guest

How much grit do you think you’ve got?
Can you quit a thing that you like a lot?
You may talk of pluck; it’s an easy word,
And where’er you go it is often heard;
But can you tell to a jot or guess
Just how much courage you now possess?
You may stand to trouble and keep your grin,
But have you tackled self-discipline?
Have you ever issued commands to you
To quit the things that you like to do,
And then, when tempted and sorely swayed,
Those rigid orders have you obeyed?

Don’t boast of your grit till you’ve tried it out,
Nor prate to men of your courage stout,
For it’s easy enough to retain a grin
In the face of a fight there’s a chance to win,
But the sort of grit that is good to own
Is the stuff you need when you’re all alone.
How much grit do you think you’ve got?
Can you turn from joys that you like a lot?
Have you ever tested yourself to know
How far with yourself your will can go?
If you want to know if you have grit,
Just pick out a joy that you like, and quit.

It’s bully sport and it’s open fight;
It will keep you busy both day and night;
For the toughest kind of a game you’ll find
Is to make your body obey your mind.
And you never will know what is meant by grit
Unless there’s something you’ve tried to quit.

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