And still with laughter, song, and shout
Spin the great wheel of earth about.

But ye? - O ye who linger still
Here in your fortress on the hill,
With placid face, with tranquil breath,
The unsought volunteers of death,
Our cheerful General on high
With careless looks may pass you by!'


And the fact of death, which has damped and darkened the writings
of so many minor poets, does not cast a pallor on his conviction.
Life is of value only because it can be spent, or given; and the
love of God coveted the position, and assumed mortality. If a man
treasure and hug his life, one thing only is certain, that he will
be robbed some day, and cut the pitiable and futile figure of one
who has been saving candle-ends in a house that is on fire. Better
than this to have a foolish spendthrift blaze and the loving cup
going round. Stevenson speaks almost with a personal envy of the
conduct of the four marines of the WAGER. There was no room for
them in the boat, and they were left on a desert island to a
certain death. 'They were soldiers, they said, and knew well
enough it was their business to die; and as their comrades pulled
away, they stood upon the beach, gave three cheers, and cried, "God
bless the King!" Now, one or two of those who were in the boat
escaped, against all likelihood, to tell the story. That was a
great thing for us' - even when life is extorted it may be given
nobly, with ceremony and courtesy. So strong was Stevenson's
admiration for heroic graces like these that in the requiem that