It seems to me that this is the kind of poetry people will like today. It has a ruggedness and colloquial folk quality that gives it something of a modern Whitman touch. There are marching rhythms -- and there are no rhythms; there are odd rhyme structures -- and no rhyme structures. There is enough flag waving and patriotism to make one feel that he is a bit of a jingo -- and then, suddenly, humor and barbed wit relieve it of the charge of sentimentality. Occasional passages of lyrical beauty; recurrent awareness of deep undercurrents of thought and sensitivity, balance an almost crude strength and virility. I liked them.