FROM GALLEY TO GLORY
THE MEASURE OF A MAN
by HERBERT DORE
Photo by Moffett
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Intensely gripping from commencement to close
There he stood, in the full strength of his God-given manhood, knowing well the cruel fate that lay before him, yet, not swerving one hair's breadth from the path he had determined to follow. His hair was perfectly white. It had become so in a few hours.
Divine and majestic indeed was the man who would thus denounce himself lest another be unjustly condemned! Could it be possible that a convict had become transformed into a hero and a saviour? A great light shone upon the brow of him who was going to a living death in order that another might live.
'Twas not his lot to fall on bloody field,
Charging the foe with Glory's pennon flying;
But on a lowly cot, all foes defying,
His dauntless spirit fled. There stood revealed
The chivalry his bright escutcheon vaunted,
The glory of a soul by fear undaunted,
The majesty of man, ne'er known to yield.
Sustained by a calm fortitude, he bore
The anguish of a disappointed heart;
Nor murmured he, nor played the craven's part;
Man to the end; a hero to the core.
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