It is not, of course, a question of exact or direct comparison between, let us say, the _Canterbury Tales_ and these narrative poems of the twentieth century. It is rather a matter of the spirit of the whole work, of the personality and its reaction to life, which satisfy one individual at least of a resemblance. Of course it is not easily susceptible of proof; but there are passages from the two poets which in thought, feeling, and even manner of expression, will almost form a parallel. Consider this stanza from a minor poem of Chaucer, a prayer to the Virgin in the quaint form of an "A. B. C." Xristus, thy sone, that in this world alighte, Up-on the cros to suffre his passioun, And eek, that Longius his herte pighte, And made his herte blood to renne adoun; And al was this for my salvacioun; And I to him am fals and eek unkinde, And yit he wol not my dampnacioun-- This thanke I you, socour of al mankinde. The childlike faith of that, the quiet rapture of adoration, the abandon and simple confidence, are curiously matched by the following passage from "The Everlasting Mercy." Saul Kane has found his soul in the mystical rebirth of Christianity, and dawn coming across the fields lightens all his world with new significance. O Christ who holds the open gate, O Christ who drives the furrow straight, O Christ, the plough, O Christ, the laughter Of holy white birds flying after, Lo, all my heart's field red and torn, And Thou wilt bring the young green corn, The young green corn divinely springing, The young green corn for ever singing; And when the field is fresh and fair Thy blessèd feet shall glitter there. And we will walk the weeded field, And tell the golden harvest's yield, The corn that makes the holy bread By which the soul of man is fed, The holy bread, the food unpriced, Thy everlasting mercy, Christ. So one might go on to contrast the several characteristics of this poetry, and to trace them back to the combination of qualities in the author's genius. This elemental religious emotion, dramatically fitted as it is to the character, could only have found such expression by a mind which deeply felt the primary human need of religion, and which was relatively untroubled by abstract philosophy. But set over against that is the almost pagan joy in the senses, the vigour and love of action which make so strong a physical basis to this work; whilst, on the other hand, there stands the astonishing contrast between the lyrical intensity of the idyllic passages of these poems; and the dramatic power (at once identified with humanity and detached from it) which has created characters of ardent vitality.