Even like unto "Bo'sin Bill," who was and is a prevalent type, but not a serious type--that man who claims to be an atheist, but in times of stress, like unto us all, turns to God. And what humorous creatures we are! Enough to make God smile, if he did not love us so much: "But our bo'sin Bill was an atheist still Ex-cept--sometimes--in the dark!" Collected Poems by Alfred Noyes. And again from "The Paradox": "Flashing forth as a flame, The unnameable Name, The ineffable Word, _I am the Lord_!" "I am the End to which the whole world strives: Therefore are ye girdled with a wild desire and shod With sorrow; for among you all no soul Shall ever cease, or sleep, or reach its goal Of union and communion with the Whole Or rest content with less than being God." Collected Poems by Alfred Noyes. And thus we find God, with Noyes. And I have saved for the last quotation one from "The Origin of Life," which the poet says is "Written in answer to certain scientific theories." I save it for the last because, strangely, it sums up all the journey that we have passed through, from childhood to God-hood: "Watched the great hills like clouds arise and set, And one--named Olivet; When you have seen as a shadow passing away, One child clasp hands and pray; When you have seen emerge from that dark mire One martyr ringed with fire; Or, from that Nothingness, by special grace One woman's love-lit face...." * * * * * "Dare you re-kindle then, One faith for faithless men, And say you found, on that dark road you trod, In the beginning, _God_?" Collected Poems by Alfred Noyes. [Illustration: JOHN MASEFIELD.] VII JOHN MASEFIELD, POET FOR THE PULPIT [Footnote: The poetical selections appearing in this chapter are used by permission, and are taken from the following works: The Everlasting Mercy and the Widow in the Bye Street, Salt Water Poems and Ballads, and Good Friday, published by The Macmillan Company, New York.] To climb is to achieve. We like to see men achieve; and the harder that achievement is, the more we thrill to it. For that reason we all have a hope to climb a Shasta, or a Whitney, or a Hood to its whitest peak, and glory in the achievement. And because of this human delight in the climb we thrill to see a man climb out of sin, or out of difficulty, or out of defeat to triumph. From "bar-boy" to poet is a great achievement, a great climb, or leap, or lift, whichever figure you may prefer, but that is exactly what John Masefield did.