Has it too
the old, ever-fresh forbearance and impartiality?
the old, ever-fresh forbearance and impartiality?
Whitman
Whether or no the sign appears from the mouths of the people, it
throbs a live interrogation in every freeman's and freewoman's heart after
that which passes by, or this built to remain. Is it uniform with my
country? Are its disposals without ignominious distinctions? Is it for the
ever-growing communes of brothers and lovers, large, well united, proud
beyond the old models, generous beyond all models? Is it something grown
fresh out of the fields, or drawn from the sea, for use to me, to-day,
here? I know that what answers for me, an American, must answer for any
individual or nation that serves for a part of my materials. Does this
answer? or is it without reference to universal needs? or sprung of the
needs of the less developed society of special ranks? or old needs of
pleasure overlaid by modern science and forms? Does this acknowledge
liberty with audible and absolute acknowledgment, and set slavery at
nought, for life and death? Will it help breed one good-shaped man, and a
woman to be his perfect and independent mate? Does it improve manners? Is
it for the nursing of the young of the republic? Does it solve readily with
the sweet milk of the breasts of the mother of many children?
Has it too
the old, ever-fresh forbearance and impartiality? Does it look with the
same love on the last-born and on those hardening toward stature, and on
the errant, and on those who disdain all strength of assault outside of
their own?
The poems distilled from other poems will probably pass away. The coward
will surely pass away. The expectation of the vital and great can only be
satisfied by the demeanour of the vital and great. The swarms of the
polished, deprecating, and reflectors, and the polite, float off and leave
no remembrance. America prepares with composure and goodwill for the
visitors that have sent word. It is not intellect that is to be their
warrant and welcome. The talented, the artist, the ingenious, the editor,
the statesman, the erudite--they are not unappreciated--they fall in their
place and do their work. The soul of the nation also does its work. No
disguise can pass on it--no disguise can conceal from it. It rejects none,
it permits all. Only toward as good as itself and toward the like of itself
will it advance half-way. An individual is as superb as a nation when he
has the qualities which make a superb nation. The soul of the largest and
wealthiest and proudest nation may well go half-way to meet that of its
poets. The signs are effectual.
throbs a live interrogation in every freeman's and freewoman's heart after
that which passes by, or this built to remain. Is it uniform with my
country? Are its disposals without ignominious distinctions? Is it for the
ever-growing communes of brothers and lovers, large, well united, proud
beyond the old models, generous beyond all models? Is it something grown
fresh out of the fields, or drawn from the sea, for use to me, to-day,
here? I know that what answers for me, an American, must answer for any
individual or nation that serves for a part of my materials. Does this
answer? or is it without reference to universal needs? or sprung of the
needs of the less developed society of special ranks? or old needs of
pleasure overlaid by modern science and forms? Does this acknowledge
liberty with audible and absolute acknowledgment, and set slavery at
nought, for life and death? Will it help breed one good-shaped man, and a
woman to be his perfect and independent mate? Does it improve manners? Is
it for the nursing of the young of the republic? Does it solve readily with
the sweet milk of the breasts of the mother of many children?
Has it too
the old, ever-fresh forbearance and impartiality? Does it look with the
same love on the last-born and on those hardening toward stature, and on
the errant, and on those who disdain all strength of assault outside of
their own?
The poems distilled from other poems will probably pass away. The coward
will surely pass away. The expectation of the vital and great can only be
satisfied by the demeanour of the vital and great. The swarms of the
polished, deprecating, and reflectors, and the polite, float off and leave
no remembrance. America prepares with composure and goodwill for the
visitors that have sent word. It is not intellect that is to be their
warrant and welcome. The talented, the artist, the ingenious, the editor,
the statesman, the erudite--they are not unappreciated--they fall in their
place and do their work. The soul of the nation also does its work. No
disguise can pass on it--no disguise can conceal from it. It rejects none,
it permits all. Only toward as good as itself and toward the like of itself
will it advance half-way. An individual is as superb as a nation when he
has the qualities which make a superb nation. The soul of the largest and
wealthiest and proudest nation may well go half-way to meet that of its
poets. The signs are effectual.
