People liked him, not because <br />He was rich or known to fame; <br />He had never won applause <br />As a star in any game. <br />His was not a brilliant style, <br />His was not a forceful way, <br />But he had a gentle smile <br /> <br />And a kindly word to say. <br />Never arrogant or proud, <br />On he went with manner mild; <br />Never quarrelsome or loud, <br />Just as simple as a child; <br />Honest, patient, brave and true: <br />Thus he lived from day to day, <br />Doing what he found to do <br /> <br />In a cheerful sort of way. <br />Wasn't one to boast of gold <br />Or belittle it with sneers, <br />Didn't change from hot to cold, <br />Kept his friends throughout the years, <br />Sort of man you like to meet <br />Any time or any place. <br />There was always something sweet <br /> <br />And refreshing in his face. <br />Sort of man you'd like to be: <br />Balanced well and truly square; <br />Patient in adversity, <br />Generous when his skies were fair. <br />Never lied to friend or foe, <br />Never rash in word or deed, <br />Quick to come and slow to go <br />In a neighbor's time of need. <br /> <br />Never rose to wealth or fame, <br />Simply lived, and simply died, <br />But the passing of his name <br />Left a sorrow, far and wide. <br />Not for glory he'd attained, <br />Nor for what he had of pelf, <br />Were the friends that he had gained, <br />But for what he was himself.<br /><br />Edgar Albert Guest<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/people-like-him/
