Poem by Eugene Field

“Guess”

There is a certain Yankee phrase
  I always have revered,
Yet, somehow, in these modern days,
  It's almost disappeared;
It was the usage years ago,
  But nowadays it's got
To be regarded coarse and low
  To answer: "I guess not!"

The height of fashion called the pink
  Affects a British craze—
Prefers "I fancy" or "I think"
  To that time-honored phrase;
But here's a Yankee, if you please,
  That brands the fashion rot,
And to all heresies like these
  He answers, "I—guess not!"—

When Chaucer, Wycliff, and the rest
  Express their meaning thus,
I guess, if not the very best,
  It's good enough for us!
Why! shall the idioms of our speech
  Be banished and forgot
For this vain trash which moderns teach?
  Well, no, sir; I guess not!

There's meaning in that homely phrase
  No other words express—
No substitute therefor conveys
  Such unobtrusive stress.
True Anglo-Saxon speech, it goes
  Directly to the spot,
And he who hears it always knows
  The worth of "I—guess—not!"

1. Old Spanish Song
2. The Singing in God's Acre
3. The Two Little Skeezucks
4. In Praise of Contentment
5. Fitte the First

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