It's time for another Edgar Guest poem. This one I found late last night/early this morning on page 389 of The Book of Virtues, in the chapter on Work.
"The man who wants a garden fair,
Or small or very big,
With flowers growing here and there,
Must bend his back and dig.
"The things are mighty few on earth
That wishes can attain,
Whate'er we want of any worth
We've got to work to gain.
"It matters not what goal you seek
Its secret here reposes:
You've got to dig from week to week
To get Results or Roses."
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