These exercises, so much sneered at, are the Dwellers on the
Threshold of the life of letters. They are haunting forms of fear,
but they have to be wrestled with, like the Angel (to change the
figure), till they bless you, and make words become, in your hands,
like the clay of the modeller. Could we write Greek like Mr. Jebb,
we would never write anything else.
Murray had naturally, it seems, certainly not by dint of wrestling
with Greek prose, the mastery of language. His light verse is
wonderfully handled, quaint, fluent, right. Modest as he was, he
was ambitious, as we said, but not ambitious of any gain; merely
eager, in his own way, to excel. His ideal is plainly stated in the
following verses:-
[Greek text]
Ever to be the best. To lead
In whatsoever things are true;
Not stand among the halting crew,
The faint of heart, the feeble-kneed,
Who tarry for a certain sign
To make them follow with the rest -
Oh, let not their reproach be thine!
But ever be the best.
For want of this aspiring soul,
Great deeds on earth remain undone,
But, sharpened by the sight of one,
Many shall press toward the goal.
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