"Myself" by Edgar Guest

I have to live with myself, and so,
I want to be fit for myself to know;

I want to be able as days go by,
Always to look myself straight in the eye;

I don't want to stand with the setting sun
And hate myself for the things I've done.

I don't want to keep on a closet shelf
A lot of secrets about myself,

And fool myself as I come and go
Into thinking that nobody else will know

The kind of man I really am;

I don't want to dress myself up in sham.
I want to deserve all men's respect;

But here in this struggle for fame and pelf,
I want to be able to like myself.

I don't want to think as I come and go
That I'm for bluster and bluff and empty show.
I never can hide myself from me,
I see what others may never see,

I know what others may never know,
I never can fool myself -- and so,

Whatever happens, I want to be
Self-respecting and conscience free.

What makes a memory?

Is it the taste?
Is it the scenery?
May hap it be the people along the way,
The sun rides high on the crimson sky,
No twilight do I see

The corpses of
long sadnesses seem past.
The new dawn awakes,
the mountain of sudden ecstasy laughs.
No cloud do I see

The cloudy burst
along the mountain's almond crust,
cannot stem the joy
of the climb and the exuberance.
No shadows can i hear

Random joys seem to be the best,
no sorrows can they contain.
The only thought of spring and sun,
can make winds sing again
Simply joy!