|
The excerpt represents the core issue or deciding factor on which you must meditate, and is drawn from Just Folks by Edgar A. Guest: Where the orchestra is playing to the rattle of the forks;
And your after-opera dinner you may think superbly fine,
But that can't compare, I'm certain, to the joy that's always mine
When I reach my little dwelling--source, of all sincere delight--
And I prowl around the pantry in the waning hours of night.
When my business, or my pleasure, has detained me until late,
And it's midnight, say, or after, when I reach my own estate,
Though I'm weary with my toiling I don't hustle up to bed,
For the inner man is hungry and he's anxious to be fed;
Then I feel a thrill of glory from my head down to my feet
As I prowl around the pantry after something good to eat.
Just Folks |
