For he will smile And give you, with unflinching courtesy, Prayers, trappings, letters, uniforms and orders, Photographs, kindness, valor and advice, And do it with such grace and gentleness That you will know you have the whole of him Pinned down, mapped out, easy to understand⁠— And so you have. All things except the heart. The heart he kept himself, that answers all. For here was someone who lived all his life In the most fierce and open light of the sun, Wrote letters freely, did not guard his speech, Listened and talked with every sort of man, And kept his heart a secret to the end From all the picklocks of biographers.