By Blue Ontario’s Shore
13 Rhymes and rhymers pass away, poems distill'd from poems pass away, The swarms of reflectors and the polite pass, and leave ashes, Admirers, importers, obedient persons, make but the soil of literature, America justifies itself, give it time, no disguise can deceive it or conceal from it, it is impassive enough, Only toward the likes of itself will it advance to meet them, If its poets appear it will in due time advance to meet them, there is no fear of mistake, (The proof of a poet shall be sternly deferr'd till his country absorbs him as affectionately as he has absorb'd it.) He masters whose spirit masters, he tastes sweetest who results sweetest in the long run, The blood of the brawn beloved of time is unconstraint; In the need of songs, philosophy, an appropriate native grand-opera, shipcraft, any craft, He or she is Average who contributes the Average original practical example. Already a nonchalant breed, silently emerging, appears on the streets, People's lips salute only doers, lovers, satisfiers, positive knowers, There will shortly be no more priests, I say their work is done, Death is without emergencies here, but life is perpetual emergencies here, Are your body, days, manners, superb? after death you shall be superb, Justice, health, self-esteem, clear the way with irresistible power; How dare you place any thing before a man?
Posted on 19/03/2015, in literature, poetry and tagged 19th Century Poetry, American literature, American poets, Daily Whitman, free verse, Leaves of Grass, literature, poems, poetry, Transcendentalists, Walt Whitman. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.