Bryan saw how it worked.
Bryan had it in him too.
Bryan heard the shouts of the people across the land as they gloried in the fight. He saw the signals from the nations over the sea.
Then Armageddon moved to Baltimore.
And now table is about to be spread.
It is to be Mr. Wilson's soup.
But the soup will have a Roosevelt flavour or tang to it. And we will wait to see what Mr. Wilson will do with the other courses.
A poet in words, with two or three exceptions, America has not produced.