Prelates, in order to sing of the stokers and chantymen, yes, even of
the dust and scum of the earth. They work, and others get the praise.
They are inarticulate, but have found a spokesman and a champion in
the poet. His sea-poems in this respect resemble Conrad's sea-novels.
This is perhaps one of the chief functions of the man of letters,
whether he be poet, novelist or dramatist--never to let us forget the
anonymous army of toilers. For, as Clyde Fitch used to say, the great
things do not happen to the great writers; the great things happen to
the little people they describe.

Although Mr. Masefield's reputation depends mainly on his narrative
poems, he has earned a high place among lyrical poets. These poems, at
least many of them, are as purely subjective as _The Everlasting
Mercy_ was purely objective. Rarely does a poem unfurl with more
loveliness than this:

I have seen dawn and sunset on moors and windy hills
Coming in solemn beauty like slow old tunes of Spain;
I have seen the lady April bringing the daffodils,
Bringing the springing grass and the soft warm April rain.

In _Tewkesbury Road_ and in _Sea Fever_ the poet expresses
the urge of his own heart. In _Biography_ he quite properly
adopts a style exactly the opposite of the biographical dictionary.
Dates and events are excluded. But the various moments when life was
most intense in actual experience, sights of mountains on sea and
land, long walks and talks with an intimate friend, the frantically
fierce endeavour in the racing cutter, quiet scenes of beauty in the
peaceful countryside. "The days that make us happy make us wise."