Edgar Albert Guest

A Wish

God grant my children may
Not think in terms of gold
When I have passed away
And my poor form is cold.
When I no more shall be,
If of me they would brag,
I’d have them speak of me
As one who loved the Flag.
 
God grant my children may
Not speak of me as one
Who trod a selfish way,
When I am dead and gone.
When they recall my name
I’d have them tell that I
Held dear my Country’s fame
And kept her standards high.
 
Not for the things I gave
Would I be counted kind;
When I am in my grave,
If they my worth would find,
I’d have them read it there
In red and white and blue
And stars of radiance rare!
And say that I was true.
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