entered the fight with absolute courage and with the shrewdest practical judgment of weapons and tactics.
He forgot himself.
He turned aside from those pleasant fields of New England
legend and history to which he was destined to return after his warfare was accomplished.
He had read the prose of Milton
and of Burke
He perceived that negro emancipation in the United States
was only a single and immediate phase of a universal movement of liberalism.
The thought kindled his imagination.
He wrote, at white heat, political and social verse that glowed with humanitarian passion: lyrics in praise of fellow-workers, salutes to the dead, campaign songs, hymns, satires against the clergy and the capitalists, superb sectional poems like Massachusetts to Virginia
, and, more nobly still, poems embodying what Wordsworth
called “the sensation and image of country and the human.
had now “found himself” as a poet.
It is true that his style remained diffuse and his ear faulty, but his countrymen, then as now uncritical of artistic form, overlooked the blemishes of his verse, and thought only of his vibrant emotion, his scorn of cowardice and evil, his