Table-Cloths
Edgar Albert Guest (1881-1959)
Some people, when they sit to eat,
Prefer to see the table neat.
They want the linen spotless white,
The glasses dazzling in the light,
The silverware in trim array,
But, as for me, I often say,
Give me glad childhood’s table-cloth
Well-stained with jelly, milk and broth.
Not long in peace could I abide
In houses cold with pomp and pride,
Or dwell where dignity commands
Precision’s care from little hands.
I much prefer the happier place
Illumined by a smiling face,
The dining room where soon I know
A glass of milk will over go.
Be mine the room with laughter filled,
Where no one frets o’er what is spilled.
For what are table-cloths that they
Should drive all merriment away,
And why think accidents a crime,
Especially at dinner time?
They gather sorrows for their pains
Who make too much of jelly-stains.
I should not always like to dine
Where silverware and glasses shine
And linen white outlasts the meal;
Too sad and lonely I should feel.
In table-cloths I take no pride,
I want the children at my side.
My joy is in those splotches red
When jelly dances from the bread.