which he does not impart it. The continuous miracle is that he manages to impart it with only a line here and there in the familiar grand style of the masters, and these remain, one suspects, by his inadvertence as in his salutation to a tawny headed warrior:
Now ending well in death the splendid fever of thy deeds,
········
Leaving behind thee a memory sweet to soldiers,
Thou yieldest up thyself.
········
Leaving behind thee a memory sweet to soldiers,
Thou yieldest up thyself.
These are lines that the old masters would recognize as in their style; but the heroic ecstasy lives too in the new style of his own:
Fall behind me States!
A man before all—myself, typical, before all,
Give me the pay I have served for,
Give me to sing of the great Idea, take all the rest.
A man before all—myself, typical, before all,
Give me the pay I have served for,
Give me to sing of the great Idea, take all the rest.
Or consider his salute: "To Him That Was Crucified":
My spirit to yours dear brother,
Do not mind because many sounding your name do not understand you,
I do not sound your name, but I understand you.
Do not mind because many sounding your name do not understand you,
I do not sound your name, but I understand you.
In nothing does a man measure himself more decisively than in his judgment of other men. Whit-
