Daily Whitman


By Blue Ontario’s Shore

  I listened to the Phantom by Ontario's shore,
  I heard the voice arising demanding bards,
  By them all native and grand, by them alone can these States be
      fused into the compact organism of a Nation.

  To hold men together by paper and seal or by compulsion is no account,
  That only holds men together which aggregates all in a living principle,
      as the hold of the limbs of the body or the fibres of plants.

  Of all races and eras these States with veins full of poetical stuff most
      need poets, and are to have the Average, and use them the Average,
  Their Presidents shall not be their common referee so much as their
      poets shall.

  (Soul of love and tongue of fire!
  Eye to pierce the deepest deeps and sweep the world!
  Ah Mother, prolific and full in all besides, yet how long barren, barren?)


Posted on 15/03/2015, in literature, poetry and tagged , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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