Edgar A. Guest

“ No man to-day can live alone.
The young apprentice at the bench,
The wise inventor, old and gray,
Serve with the soldier in the trench,
All warriors for the better day.
Oh, man of science, unto you
The call for service now has come!
Mechanic, banker, lawyer, too,
Have you not heard the stirring drum?
Oh, humble digger in the ditch,
Bend to your spade and do your best,
And prove America is rich
In manhood fine for every test.
Each man beneath the starry flag
Must live his noblest through the strife
If tyranny is not to drag
Into the mire the best of life. ”

“ We stand, who cannot share the fray,
Staunch for the danger and the test.
For them at night we kneel and pray.
Be with them, Lord, who serve the truth,
And make us worthy of our youth!
Here mother-love and father-love
Unite in love of country now;
Here to the flag that flies above,
Our heads we reverently bow;
Here as one people, night and day,
For victory we work and pray.
Nor race nor creed shall difference make,
Nor bigot mar the zealot's plan;
We give our all for Freedom's sake,
Each man a king, each king a man. ”

“ Let no such dangerous person lead us,
To-day in France they sadly need us.
A Christmas Greeting
Here's to you, little mother,
With your boy so far away;
May the joy of service smother
All your grief this Christmas day;
May the magic of his splendor
Thrill your spirit through and through
And may all that's fine and tender
Make a smiling day for you.
May you never know the sadness
That from day to day you dread;
May you never find but gladness
In the Flag that's overhead;
May the good God watch above him
As he stands to duty stern,
And at last to all who love him
May he have a safe return. ”

“ Now the gage is flung down, hate is loosed in the world.
Oh, God! shall our flag in dishonor be furled?
We have said we are brave; we have preached of the truth,
We have walked in conceit of the strength of our youth;
We have mocked at the ramparts and guns of the foe,
As though we believed we could laugh them all low.
Now oppression has struck! We are challenged to fight!
Oh, God! let us prove we can stand for the right!
If in honor and glory our flag is to wave,
If we are to keep this—the land of the brave ”

“ Oh, some shall stand in glory's light when all the strife is done,
And many a mother there shall say, "For truth I gave my son!"
But I shall stand in silence then and hear the stories brave,
For I must answer at the last that gold is all I gave.
When all this age shall pass away, and silenced are the guns,
When sweethearts join their loves again, and mothers kiss their sons,
When brave unto the brave return, and all they did is told,
How pitiful my gift shall seem, when all I gave is gold. ”

“ He Should Meet a Mother There
If he should meet a mother there
Along some winding Flanders road,
No extra touch of grief or care
He'll add unto her heavy load.
But he will kindly take her arm
And tender as her son will be;
He'll lead her from the path of harm
Because of me.
Be she the mother of his foe,
He will not speak to her in hate;
My boy will never stoop so low
As motherhood to desecrate.
But she shall know what once I knew—
Eyes that are glorious to see,
The light of manhood shining through—
Because of me. ”

“ This year his kindly Santa Claus must guard a trench in France.
His mother bravely tries to smile; last Christmas Eve was gay;
Last Christmas morn his daddy rose at dawn with him to play;
This year he'll hang his stocking by the chimney, but the hands
That filled it with the joys he craved now serve in foreign lands.
He is too young to understand his mother's troubled glance,
But he that was his Santa Claus is in a trench in France.
Somewhere in France this Christmas Eve a soldier brave will be,
And all that night in fancy he will trim a Christmas tree ”

“ Though I'll win no hero's medals and deserve no wild applause,
I want to be of service, not a hindrance to the cause.
The Call
Some will heed the call to arms,
But all must heed the call to grit;
The dreamers on the distant farms
Must rally now to do their bit.
The whirring lathes in factories great
Will sing the martial songs of strife;
Upon the emery wheel of fate
We're grinding now the nation's life.
The call is not alone to guns,
This is not but a battle test;
The world has summoned free men's sons
In every field to do their best. ”

“ Are lilacs by a little porch, the row of tulips red,
The peonies and pansies, too, the old petunia bed,
The grass plot where his children play, the roses on the wall:
'Tis these that make a soldier great. He's fighting for them all.
'Tis not the pomp and pride of kings that make a soldier brave;
'Tis not allegiance to the flag that over him may wave;
For soldiers never fight so well on land or on the foam
As when behind the cause they see the little place called home.
Endanger but that humble street whereon his children run—
You make a soldier of the man who never bore a gun. ”

“ We shall be prouder of our flag than we have been before.
We could not longer idle stay, spectators of a wrong,
The weak were crying out for help against oppression strong;
And though we pray we may be spared the bitterness of strife,
'Twere better that we die than live the coward's feeble life.
We could not longer silent sit, our glory at an end,
And blind ourselves unto the wrongs committed by a friend;
We must be tolerant with all, yet in these days of hate,
Some things have happened that it would be shame to tolerate. ”

“ And no man shall ever surfer in the turmoil of the fray
The anguish of the mother of the boy who goes away.
You may boast men's deeds of glory, you may tell their courage great,
But to die is easier service than alone to sit and wait,
And I hail the little mother, with the tear-stained face and grave
Who has given the Flag a soldier—she's the bravest of the brave.
And that banner we are proud of, with its red and blue and white
Is a lasting tribute holy to all mothers' love of right. ”

“ Is the mother of Old Glory that is waving in the sky.
Men have fought to keep it splendid, men have died to keep it bright,
But that flag was born of woman and her sufferings day and night;
'Tis her sacrifice has made it, and once more we ought to pray
For the brave and loyal mother of the boy that goes away.
There are days of grief before her, there are hours that she will weep,
There are nights of anxious waiting when her fear will banish sleep;
She has heard her country calling and has risen to the test,
And has placed upon the altar of the nation's need, her best. ”

“ The greatest joys we hope to claim are those that we shall give.
We face the heat and strife of life, its battle and its toil
That those who follow us may know the best of freedom's soil.
And if we knew that by our death we'd keep that flag on high,
For your boy and my boy, how gladly we would die.
Soldierly
The glory of a soldier—and a soldier's not a saint—
Is the way he does his duty without grumbling or complaint;
His work's not always pleasant, but he does it rain or shine,
And he grabs a bit of glory when he's fighting in the line ”

“ Little mother, keep the faith: not to death he goes;
Share with him the joy of worth that your soldier knows.
He is giving to the Flag all that man can give,
And if you believe he will, surely he will live.
Little mother, through the night of his absence long,
Never cease to think of him—brave and well and strong;
You shall know his kiss again, you shall see his smile,
For your boy shall come to you in a little while.
Thoughts of a Soldier
Since men with life must purchase life
And some must die that more may live,
Unto the Great Cashier of strife
A fine accounting let me give. ”

“ Come! deck the home with holly wreaths and make this Christmas glow,
And let Old Glory wave above the bough of mistletoe!
Come! keep alive the faith of them who sleep 'neath Flanders snow.
Ye brave of heart who dwell at home, make merry now a-while;
The world has need of Christmas cheer its sorrows to beguile;
And blest is he whose love can light grief's corners with a smile.
Ring out once more, sweet Christmas bells, your message to the sky,
Proclaim in golden tones again to every passer-by
That peace shall rule the lands of earth, and only war shall die. ”

“ And it seems no time for talking or for laughter or for cheers,
With the wounded all about him and their moaning in his ears.
He is waiting for to-morrow, waiting there to do his share,
And he'll strike a blow for freedom when his boys get over there.
The Better Thing
It is better to die for the flag,
For its red and its white and its blue,
Than to hang back and shirk and to lag
And let the flag sink out of view.
It is better to give up this life
In the heat and the thick of the strife
Than to live out your days 'neath a sky,
Where Old Glory shall never more fly. ”

“ The splendor of Old Glory's fame;
I must not let my standards drag,
For my disgrace would stain the Flag.
The Struggle
Life is a struggle for peace,
A longing for rest,
A hope for the battles to cease,
A dream for the best;
And he is not living who stays
Contented with things,
Unconcerned with the work of the days
And all that it brings.
He is dead who sees nothing to change,
No wrong to make right;
Who travels no new way or strange
In search of the light ”

“ But you're not exempt from love of the Flag that flies above,
You've a greater obligation to your country to be true;
You must work from day to day in a bigger, better way
For the glory of the nation that has been so good to you.
You are not exempt from trial, from long days of self-denial,
From devotion to your homeland and from courage in the test.
You are not exempt from giving to your country's needs and living
As a citizen and soldier—an example of the best. ”

“ But the chuckles all have vanished, and with glory now we scan
The courage and the splendor of the Wrist Watch Man.
He is not the man we laughed at, not the one who won our jeers,
He's the man that we are proud of, he's the man that owns our cheers;
He's the finest of the finest, he's the bravest of the clan,
And I pray for God's protection for our Wrist Watch Man.
Follow the Flag
Aye, we will follow the Flag
Wherever she goes,
Into the tropic sun,
Into the northern snows;
Go where the guns ring out
Scattering steel and lead,
Painting the hills with blood,
Strewing the fields with dead. ”

“ Where dangers lurk and hate's at work.
Shall come new victory.
The flag shall know not race nor creed,
Nor different bands of men;
A people strong round it shall throng
To ne'er divide again.
April Thoughts
Listen to the laughter of the brook that's racin' by!
Listen to the chatter of the black-birds on the fence!
Stand an' see the beauties of the blue that's in the sky—
Then ask of God why mortals haven't any better sense
Than to quarrel an' to battle
Where the guns an' cannon rattle
An' to slaughter one another an' to fill the world with hate. ”

“ And all that night he'll live again the joys that once he had
When he was good St. Nicholas unto a certain lad.
And he will wonder if his boy, by any sad mischance,
Will find his stocking empty just because he serves in France.
Show the Flag
Show the flag and let it wave
As a symbol of the brave;
Let it float upon the breeze
As a sign for each who sees
That beneath it, where it rides,
Loyalty to-day abides.
Show the flag and signify
That it wasn't born to die;
Let its colors speak for you
That you still are standing true,
True in sight of God and man
To the work that flag began. ”

“ Who stands to battle every wrong,
Takes off his coat, and buckles in
The better joys of earth to win!
The optimist who worries lest
The vile should overthrow the best.
We need a few more optimists,
The brave of heart that long resists
The force of Hate and Greed and lust
And keeps in God and man his trust,
Believing, as he makes his fight
That everything will end all right—
Yet through the dreary days and nights
Unfalteringly serves and fights,
And helps to gain the joys which he
Believes are some day sure to be. ”

“ As guardians of a precious trust hate must not sweep away.
We must rejoice, if we are men, not weak and soft of heart
That we have heeded duty's call, and taken up our part.
And when at last sweet peace shall come, and all the strife is o'er,
We shall be prouder of our flag than we have been before,
A Prayer
God grant to us the strength of men,
The patience of the brave ”

“ And if he dies, his name shall find its place on history's scroll;
The great chance has revealed to men the splendor of his soul.
Here We Are!
Here we are, Britain! the finest and best of us
Taking our coats off and rolling our sleeves,
Answering the thoughtless that once made a jest of us,
Each man a soldier for what he believes.
Here we are, tight little island, in unity!
Tell us the job that you want us to do!
You can depend on us all with impunity.
Give us a task and we'll all see it through.
Here we are, France! every Yankee born man of us
Coming to stand by your side in the fight ”

“ And some shall say, "I fell in France," and some, "I mourned my dead;"
With all the brave assembled there in glory long to live,
How trivial our lives shall seem who had but gold to give.
The Undaunted
He tried to travel No Man's Land, that's guarded well with guns,
He tried to race the road of death, where never a coward runs.
Now he's asking of his doctor, and he's panting hard for breath,
How soon he will be ready for another bout with death. ”