IF wishes were motors, the beggars would ride, and throw on us voters the dust, in their pride. But wishes won't carry a man to his goal, and beggars must tarry down there in the hole. "I wish," sighs the ditcher, the creature of brawn, "that I was some richer than Andy or John. But Fortune is spurning a poor, honest jay, and I'll go on earning a dollar a day." If he had quit wishing and dreaming his dream, and spent some time fishing in Knowledge's stream; if he'd made endeavor to master some trade, he would not forever be wielding a spade; he would not be sweating in gumbo and clay, intent upon getting his dollar a day. If wishes were horses the beggars would ride, but down where remorse is the beggars abide. A wish is a daisy when backed up by toil, but if you are lazy your wishes will spoil. Your wishes are dizzy if idly they grew, but if you get busy they'll likely come true. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...NOTHING TO WEAR' by WILLIAM ALLEN BUTLER SONNET: ON FAME (1) by JOHN KEATS HEART'S-EASE by WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR A BALLAD OF LONDON (TO H.W. MASSINGHAM) by RICHARD THOMAS LE GALLIENNE WILL (1) by ELLA WHEELER WILCOX |