Edgar A. Guest (1881–1959)

Most of Edgar Guest's poetry is what I would call Americana--mom, flag and apple pie; reminiscing on the "good ol' days;" and so on. That's not to say they are bad; in fact, I like many of his poems a great deal. When I read Over Here, however, I was surprised by the content. The book is actually an anthology of poems written during and about WWI. Gone are the pleasantries of country life--the country is at war, and Guest speaks to the emotions, values and duties of that day. He puts himself show more in the shoes of a mother or father whose son has left home to fight in France (I don't know if Guest actually had any sons go to war). He becomes a soldier on the front lines, slogging through trenches filled with water and blood on Christmas Day. He discusses the honor and duty that comes with being an American, and the proper respect one ought to have for the flag. He even becomes a little boy of five, who is upset that he is too young to go to war.

This was a very sobering book. WWI is often neglected in our memories these days, but Guest depicts what it was like to live, love and lose during that time. One cannot help but think about the heavy-heartedness and pain that Americans in the late 1910s felt on a daily basis, and immediately thank God that we have not been asked to endure such hardship--and wonder how we would cope if we did. His portrayal of patriotism and American unity is also a cause for reflection; could America still be such a place?

It is for these reasons--experiencing the events of WWI on a personal level, and being forced to pause and reflect on oneself and the state of the country today--that I would recommend this book. It will challenge you and break your heart, but make you a better person when you come out on the other side. show less

I expected a book poetry. Instead, I found a biographical description of the joys and sorrows of him as a new husband and father continuing through the death of two children. A perspective on life a few generations ago that reminds us what really matters. A famous poem is at the end of the book.

David O. McKay used to quote poems by Edgar A. Guest, so when I saw his poetry available on Kindle for $0.00, I downloaded several books of his poems.

I've not been a big fan of poetry, but enjoyed these. I took my time reading it so I could savor a few poems before reading more. If you like Norman Rockwell paintings, you will enjoy Edgar A. Guest. If they are both unfamiliar to you, check them out - they are good.

I memorized some poems of Edgar A. Guest as a youth. Here are a couple of them that are in this book. I got the book as a free Kindle download from Amazon.

BE A FRIEND
Be a friend. You don't need money;
Just a disposition sunny;
Just the wish to help another
Get along some way or other;
Just a kindly hand extended
Out to one who's unbefriended;
Just the will to give or lend,
This will make you someone's friend.
Be a friend. You don't need glory.
Friendship is a simple story.
Pass by trifling errors show more blindly,
Gaze on honest effort kindly,
Cheer the youth who's bravely trying,
Pity him who's sadly sighing;
Just a little labor spend
On the duties of a friend.
Be a friend. The pay is bigger
(Though not written by a figure)
Than is earned by people clever
In what's merely self-endeavor.
You'll have friends instead of neighbors
For the profits of your labors;
You'll be richer in the end
Than a prince, if you're a friend.

UNDER THE SKIN OF MEN
Did you ever sit down and talk with men
In a serious sort of a way,
On their views of life and ponder then
On all that they have to say?
If not, you should in some quiet hour;
It's a glorious thing to do:
For you'll find that back of the pomp and power
Most men have a goal in view.
They'll tell you then that their aim is not
The clink of the yellow gold;
That not in the worldly things they've got
Would they have their stories told.
They'll say the joys that they treasure most
Are their good friends, tried and true,
And an honest name for their own to boast
And peace when the day is through.
I've talked with men and I think I know
What's under the toughened skin.
I've seen their eyes grow bright and glow
With the fire that burns within.
And back of the gold and back of the fame
And back of the selfish strife,
In most men's breasts you'll find the flame
Of the nobler things of life. show less