AMERICA does not repel the past or what it has produced under its forms or
amid other politics or the idea of castes or the old religions … accepts the
lesson with calmness … is not so impatient as has been supposed that the
slough still sticks to opinions and manners and literature while the life which
served its requirements has passed into the new life of the new forms …
perceives that the corpse is slowly borne from the eating and sleeping rooms
of the house … perceives that it waits a little while in the door … that it was
fittest for its days … that its action has descended to the stalwart and well
shaped heir who approaches … and that he shall be fittest for his days.


The Americans of all nations at any time upon the earth, have probably the fullest
poetical nature. The United States themselves are essentially the greatest poem.
In the history of the earth hitherto the largest and most stirring appear tame and
orderly to their ampler largeness and stir. Here at last is something in the doings
of man that corresponds with the broadcast doings of the day and night. Here is
not merely a nation but a teeming nation of nations. Here is action untied from
strings necessarily blind to particulars and details magnificently moving in vast
masses. Here is the hospitality which forever indicates heroes…. Here are the
roughs and beards and space and ruggedness and nonchalance that the soul
loves. Here the performance disdaining the trivial unapproached in the tremendous
audacity of its crowds and groupings and the push of its perspective spreads with
crampless and flowing breadth and showers its prolific and splendid extravagance.
One sees it must indeed own the riches of the summer and winter, and need
never be bankrupt while corn grows from the ground or the orchards drop apples
or the bays contain fish or men beget children upon women.


Other states indicate themselves in their deputies … but the genius of the
United States is not best or most in its executives or legislatures, nor in its
ambassadors or authors or colleges or churches or parlors, nor even in its
newspapers or inventors … but always most in the common people. Their manners,
speech, dress, friendship--the freshness and candor of their physiognomy--the
picturesque looseness of their carriage … their deathless attachment to freedom
--their aversion to anything indecorous or soft or mean--the practical
acknowledgment of the citizens of one state by the citizens of all other states
--the fierceness of their roused resentment--their curiosity and welcome
of novelty--their self-esteem and wonderful sympathy--their susceptibility to a
slight--the air they have of persons who never knew how it felt to stand in the
presence of superiors--the fluency of their speech--their delight in music, the
sure symptom of manly tenderness and native elegance of soul … their good temper
and open handedness--the terrible significance of their elections--the President’s
taking off his hat to them, not they to him--these too are unrhymed poetry. It
awaits the gigantic and generous treatment worthy of it.


The largeness of nature or the nation were monstrous without a corresponding
largeness and generosity of the spirit of the citizen. Not nature nor swarming states
nor streets and steamships nor prosperous business nor farms nor capital nor learning
may suffice for the ideal of man … nor suffice the poet. No reminiscences may suffice
either. A live nation can always cut a deep mark and can have the best authority the
cheapest … namely from its own soul. This is the sum of the profitable uses of
individuals or states and of present action and grandeur and of the subjects of poets.
--As if it were necessary to trot back generation after generation to the eastern
records! As if the beauty and sacredness of the demonstrable must fall behind that of
the mythical! As if men do not make their mark out of any times! As if the opening
of the western continent by discovery and what has transpired since in North and
South America were less than the small theatre of the antique or the aimless
sleep-walking of the middle ages! The pride of the United States leaves the wealth
and finesse of the cities and all returns of commerce and agriculture and all the
magnitude of geography or shows of exterior victory to enjoy the breed of full sized
men or one full sized man unconquerable and simple.


The American poets are to enclose old and new for America is the race of races. Of
them a bard is to be commensurate with a people. To him the other continents arrive
as contributions … he gives them reception for their sake and his own sake. His
spirit responds to his country’s spirit … he incarnates its geography and natural
life and rivers and lakes. Mississippi with annual freshets and changing chutes,
Missouri and Columbia and Ohio and St. Lawrence with the Falls and beautiful
masculine Hudson, do not embouchure where they spend themselves more than they
embouchure into him. The blue breadth over the inland sea of Virginia and Maryland
and the sea off Massachusetts and Maine and over Manhattan Bay and over Champlain
and Erie and over Ontario and Huron and Michigan and Superior, and over the Texan
and Mexican and Floridian and Cuban seas, and over the seas off California and
Oregon, is not tallied by the blue breadth of the waters below more than the
breadth of above and below is tallied by him. When the long Atlantic coast
stretches longer and the Pacific coast stretches longer he easily stretches with
them north or south. He spans between them also from east to west and reflects
what is between them. On him rise solid growths that offset the growths of pine
and cedar and hemlock and live oak and locust and chestnut and cypress and
hickory and limetree and cottonwood and tuliptree and cactus and wildvine and
tamarind and persimmon … and tangles as tangled as any canebrake or swamp …
and forests coated with transparent ice, and icicles hanging from boughs and
crackling in the wind … and sides and peaks of mountains … and pasturage
sweet and free as savannah or upland or prairie … with flights and songs and
screams that answer those of the wild pigeon and high-hold and orchard-oriole
and coot and surf-duck and red-shouldered-hawk and fish-hawk and white ibis
and Indian-hen and cat-owl and water-pheasant and qua-bird and pied-sheldrake
and blackbird and mockingbird and buzzard and condor and nightheron and eagle.
to him the hereditary countenance descends both mother’s and father’s. to
him enter the essences of the real things and past and present events--of the
enormous diversity of temperature and agriculture and mines--the tribes of red
aborigines--the weather-beaten vessels entering new ports or making landings
on rocky coasts--the first settlements north or south--the rapid stature and
muscle--the haughty defiance of ’76, and the war and peace and formation of
the constitution … the Union always surrounded by blatherers and always calm
and impregnable--the perpetual coming of immigrants--the wharf-hem’d cities and
superior marine--the unsurveyed interior--the loghouses and clearings and wild
animals and hunters and trappers … the free commerce--the fisheries and whaling
and gold-digging--the endless gestation of new states--the convening of Congress
every December, the members duly coming up from all climates and the uttermost
parts … the noble character of the young mechanics and of all free American
workmen and workwomen … the general ardor and friendliness and enterprise--the
perfect equality of the female with the male … the large amativeness--the fluid
movement of the population--the factories and mercantile life and laborsaving
machinery--the Yankee swap--the New York firemen and the target excursion--the
Southern plantation life--the character of the northeast and of the northwest
and southwest--slavery and the tremulous spreading of hands to protect it, and
the stern opposition to it which shall never cease till it ceases or the
speaking of tongues and the moving of lips cease. For such the expression of
the American poet is to be transcendent and new. It is to be indirect and not
direct or descriptive or epic. Its quality goes through these to much more.
Let the age and wars of other nations be chanted and their eras and characters
be illustrated and that finish the verse. Not so the great psalm of the
republic. Here the theme is creative and has vista. Here comes one among the
well beloved stonecutters and plans with decision and science and sees the
solid and beautiful forms of the future where there are now no solid forms.


Of all nations the United States with veins full of poetical stuff most need
poets and will doubtless have the greatest and use them the greatest. Their
Presidents shall not be their common referee so much as their poets shall. Of
all mankind the great poet is the equable man. Not in him but off from him
things are grotesque or eccentric or fail of their sanity. Nothing out of its
place is good and nothing in its place is bad. He bestows on every object or
quality its fit proportions neither more nor less. He is the arbiter of the
diverse and he is the key. He is the equalizer of his age and land … he
supplies what wants supplying and checks what wants checking. If peace is the
routine out of him speaks the spirit of peace, large, rich, thrifty, building
vast and populous cities, encouraging agriculture and the arts and commerce--
lighting the study of man, the soul, immortality--federal, state or municipal
government, marriage, health, freetrade, intertravel by land and sea …
nothing too close, nothing too far off … the stars not too far off. In war
he is the most deadly force of the war. Who recruits him recruits horse and
foot … he fetches parks of artillery the best that engineer ever knew. If
the time becomes slothful and heavy he knows how to arouse it … he can make
every word he speaks draw blood. Whatever stagnates in the flat of custom or
obedience or legislation he never stagnates. Obedience does not master him,
he masters it. High up out of reach he stands turning a concentrated light …
he turns the pivot with his finger … he baffles the swiftest runners as he
stands and easily overtakes and envelopes them. The time straying towards
infidelity and confections and persiflage he withholds by his steady faith …
he spreads out his dishes … he offers the sweet firmfibred meat that grows
men and women. His brain is the ultimate brain. He is no arguer … he is
judgment. He judges not as the judge judges but as the sun falling around a
helpless thing. As he sees the farthest he has the most faith. His thoughts
are the hymns of the praise of things. In the talk on the soul and eternity
and God off of his equal plane he is silent. He sees eternity less like a
play with a prologue and denouement … he sees eternity in men and women …
he does not see men or women as dreams or dots. Faith is the antiseptic of
the soul … it pervades the common people and preserves them … they never
give up believing and expecting and trusting. There is that indescribable
freshness and unconsciousness about an illiterate person that humbles and
mocks the power of the noblest expressive genius. The poet sees for a
certainty how one not a great artist may be just as sacred and perfect as
the greatest artist…. The power to destroy or remould is freely used by him,
but never the power of attack. What is past is past. If he does not expose
superior models and prove himself by every step he takes he is not what is
wanted. The presence of the greatest poet conquers … not parleying or
struggling or any prepared attempts. Now he has passed that way see after
him! There is not left any vestige of despair or misanthropy or cunning or
exclusiveness or the ignominy of a nativity or color or delusion of hell
or the necessity of hell … and no man thenceforward shall be degraded for
ignorance or weakness or sin.


The greatest poet hardly knows pettiness or triviality. If he breathes into
anything that was before thought small it dilates with the grandeur and
life of the universe. He is a seer … he is individual … he is complete
in himself … the others are as good as he, only he sees it and they do
not. He is not one of the chorus … he does not stop for any regulation …
he is the president of regulation. What the eyesight does to the rest he
does to the rest. Who knows the curious mystery of the eyesight? The
other senses corroborate themselves, but this is removed from any proof
but its own and foreruns the identities of the spiritual world. A single
glance of it mocks all the investigations of man and all the instruments
and books of the earth and all reasoning. What is marvellous? what is
unlikely? what is impossible or baseless or vague? after you have once
just opened the space of a peachpit and given audience to far and near
and to the sunset and had all things enter with electric swiftness softly
and duly without confusion or jostling or jam.


The land and sea, the animals, fishes, and birds, the sky of heaven and
the orbs, the forests, mountains, and rivers, are not small themes … but
folks expect of the poet to indicate more than the beauty and dignity
which always attach to dumb real objects … they expect him to indicate
the path between reality and their souls. Men and women perceive the
beauty well enough … probably as well as he.The passionate tenacity of
hunters, woodmen, early risers, cultivators of gardens and orchards and
fields, the love of healthy women for the manly form, seafaring persons,
drivers of horses, the passion for light and the open air, all is an old
varied sign of the unfailing perception of beauty and of a residence of
the poetic in outdoor people. They can never be assisted by poets to
perceive … some may but they never can. The poetic quality is not
marshalled in rhyme or uniformity or abstract addresses to things nor in
melancholy complaints or good precepts, but is the life of these and much
else and is in the soul. The profit of rhyme is that it drops seeds of a
sweeter and more luxuriant rhyme, and of uniformity that it conveys
itself into its own roots in the ground out of sight. The rhyme and
uniformity of perfect poems show the free growth of metrical laws and
bud from them as unerringly and loosely as lilacs and roses on a bush,
and take shapes as compact as the shapes of chestnuts and oranges and
melons and pears, and shed the perfume impalpable to form. The fluency
and ornaments of the finest poems or music or orations or recitations
are not independent but dependent. All beauty comes from beautiful blood
and a beautiful brain. If the greatnesses are in conjunction in a man
or woman it is enough… the fact will prevail through the universe …
but the gaggery and gilt of a million years will not prevail. Who
troubles himself about his ornaments or fluency is lost. This is what
you shall do: Love the earth and sun and the animals, despise riches,
give alms to every one that asks, stand up for the stupid and crazy,
devote your income and labor to others, hate tyrants, argue not
concerning God, have patience and indulgence toward the people, take
off your hat to nothing known or unknown or to any man or number of
men, go freely with powerful uneducated persons and with the young
and with the mothers of families, read these leaves in the open air
every season of every year of your life, re-examine all you have been
told at school or church or in any book, dismiss whatever insults your
own soul; and your very flesh shall be a great poem and have the
richest fluency not only in its words but in the silent lines of its
lips and face and between the lashes of your eyes and in every motion
and joint of your body… . The poet shall not spend his time in
unneeded work. He shall know that the ground is always ready ploughed
and manured … others may not know it but he shall. He shall go
directly to the creation. His trust shall master the trust of
everything he touches … and shall master all attachment.


The known universe has one complete lover and that is the greatest
poet. He consumes an eternal passion and is indifferent which chance
happens and which possible contingency of fortune or misfortune and
persuades daily and hourly his delicious pay. What baulks or breaks
others is fuel for his burning progress to contact and amorous joy.
Other proportions of the reception of pleasure dwindle to nothing
to his proportions. All expected from heaven or from the highest he
is rapport with in the sight of the daybreak or a scene of the
winter woods or the presence of children playing or with his arm
round the neck of a man or woman. His love above all love has
leisure and expanse … he leaves room ahead of himself. He is no
irresolute or suspicious lover … he is sure … he scorns intervals.
His experience and the showers and thrills are not for nothing.
Nothing can jar him … suffering and darkness cannot--death and
fear cannot. To him complaint and jealousy and envy are corpses
buried and rotten in the earth … he saw them buried. The sea is
not surer of the shore or the shore of the sea than he is of the
fruition of his love and of all perfection and beauty.


The fruition of beauty is no chance of hit or miss … it is
inevitable as life … it is as exact and plumb as gravitation. From
the eyesight proceeds another eyesight and from the hearing proceeds
another hearing and from the voice proceeds another voice eternally
curious of the harmony of things with man. to these respond
perfections not only in the committees that were supposed to stand
for the rest but in the rest themselves just the same. These
understand the law of perfection in masses and floods … that its
finish is to each for itself and onward from itself … that it is
profuse and impartial … that there is not a minute of the light
or dark nor an acre of the earth and sea without it--nor any
direction of the sky nor any trade or employment nor any turn of
events. This is the reason that about the proper expression of
beauty there is precision and balance … one part does not need
to be thrust above another. The best singer is not the one who
has the most lithe and powerful organ … the pleasure of poems
is not in them that take the hand-somest measure and similes and
sound.


Without effort and without exposing in the least how it is done the greatest
poet brings the spirit of any or all events and passions and scenes and persons
some more and some less to bear on your individual character as you hear or
read. To do this well is to compete with the laws that pursue and follow time.
What is the purpose must surely be there and the clue of it must be there …
and the faintest indication is the indication of the best and then becomes the
clearest indication. Past and present and future are not disjoined but joined.
The greatest poet forms the consistence of what is to be from what has been
and is. He drags the dead out of their coffins and stands them again on their
feet … he says to the past, Rise and walk before me that I may realize you.
He learns the lesson … he places himself where the future becomes present.
The greatest poet does not only dazzle his rays over character and scenes
and passions … he finally ascends and finishes all … he exhibits the
pinnacles that no man can tell what they are for or what is beyond … he
glows a moment on the extremest verge. He is most wonderful in his last half-
hidden smile or frown … by that flash of the moment of parting the one that
sees it shall be encouraged or terrified afterward for many years. The
greatest poet does not moralize or make applications of morals … he knows
the soul. The soul has that measureless pride which consists in never
acknowledging any lessons but its own. But it has sympathy as measureless
as its pride and the one balances the other and neither can stretch too
far while it stretches in company with the other. The inmost secrets of
art sleep with the twain. The greatest poet has lain close betwixt both
and they are vital in his style and thoughts.


The art of art, the glory of expression and the sunshine of the light of
letters is simplicity. Nothing is better than simplicity … nothing can make
up for excess or for the lack of definiteness. to carry on the heave of
impulse and pierce intellectual depths and give all subjects their
articulations are powers neither common nor very uncommon. But to speak in
literature with the perfect rectitude and insouciance of the movements of
animals and the unimpeachableness of the sentiment of trees in the woods
and grass by the roadside is the flawless triumph of art. If you have looked
on him who has achieved it you have looked on one of the masters of the
artists of all nations and times. You shall not contemplate the flight of
the gray gull over the bay or the mettlesome action of the blood horse or
the tall leaning of sunflowers on their stalk or the appearance of the sun
journeying through heaven or the appearance of the moon afterward with any
more satisfaction than you shall contemplate him. The greatest poet has
less a marked style and is more the channel of thoughts and things without
increase or diminution and is the free channel of himself. He swears to
his art, I will not be meddlesome, I will not have in my writing any
elegance or effect or originality to hang in the way between me and the
rest like curtains. I will have nothing hang in the way not the richest
curtains. What I tell I tell for precisely what it is. Let who may exalt
or startle or fascinate or soothe I will have purposes as health or heat
or snow has and be as regardless of observation. What I experience or
portray shall go from my composition without a shred of my composition.
You shall stand by my side and look in the mirror with me.


The old red blood and stainless gentility of great poets will be proved
by their unconstraint. A heroic person walks at his ease through and out
of that custom or precedent or authority that suits him not. Of the
traits of the brotherhood of writers savans musicians inventors and
artists, nothing is finer than silent defiance advancing from new free
forms. In the need of poems, philosophy, politics, mechanism, science,
behavior, the craft of art, an appropriate native grand-opera, shipcraft,
or any craft, he is greatest for ever and for ever who contributes the
greatest original practical example. The cleanest expression is that
which finds no sphere worthy of itself and makes one. The messages of
great poets to each man and woman are, Come to us on equal terms, Only
then can you understand us, We are no better than you, What we enclose
you enclose, What we enjoy you may enjoy. Did you suppose there could be
only one Supreme? We affirm there can be unnumbered Supremes, and that
one does not countervail another any more than one eyesight countervails
another … and that men can be good or grand only of the consciousness
of their supremacy within them. What do you think is the grandeur of
storms and dismemberments and the deadliest battles and wrecks and the
wildest fury of the elements and the power of the sea and the motion of
nature and the throes of human desires and dignity and hate and love? It
is that something in the soul which says, Rage on, Whirl on, I tread
master here and everywhere, Master of the spasms of the sky and of the
shatter of the sea, Master of nature and passion and death, and of all
terror and all pain.


The American bards shall be marked for generosity and affection and for
encouraging competitors… . They shall be kosmos … without monopoly or
secrecy … glad to pass anything to any one … hungry for equals night and
day. They shall not be careful of riches and privilege … they shall be
riches and privilege … they shall perceive who the most affluent man is.
The most affluent man is he that confronts all the shows he sees by
equivalents out of the stronger wealth of himself. The American bard shall
delineate no class of persons nor one or two out of the strata of interests
nor love most nor truth most nor the soul most nor the body most … and not
be for the eastern states more than the western or the northern states more
than the southern.


Exact science and its practical movements are no checks on the greatest poet
but always his encouragement and support. The outset and remembrance are there …
there the arms that lifted him first and brace him best … there he returns
after all his goings and comings. The sailor and traveller … the anatomist,
chemist, astronomer, geologist, phrenologist, spiritualist, mathematician,
historian, and lexicographer, are not poets, but they are the lawgivers of
poets and their construction underlies the structure of every perfect poem.
No matter what rises or is uttered they sent the seed of the conception of
it … of them and by them stand the visible proofs of souls … always of
their fatherstuff must be begotten the sinewy races of bards. If there shall
be love and content between the father and the son and if the greatness of
the son is the exuding of the greatness of the father there shall be love
between the poet and the man of demonstrable science. In the beauty of poems
are the tuft and final applause of science.


Great is the faith of the flush of knowledge and of the investigation of the
depths of qualities and things. Cleaving and circling here swells the soul of
the poet yet is president of itself always. The depths are fathomless and
therefore calm. The innocence and nakedness are resumed … they are neither
modest nor immodest. The whole theory of the special and supernatural and all
that was twined with it or educed out of it departs as a dream. What has ever
happened … what happens and whatever may or shall happen, the vital laws
enclose all … they are sufficient for any case and for all cases … none to
be hurried or retarded … any miracle of affairs or persons inadmissible in
the vast clear scheme where every motion and every spear of grass and the
frames and spirits of men and women and all that concerns them are unspeakably
perfect miracles all referring to all and each distinct and in its place. It
is also not consistent with the reality of the soul to admit that there is
anything in the known universe more divine than men and women.


Men and women and the earth and all upon it are simply to be taken as they are,
and the investigation of their past and present and future shall be unintermitted
and shall be done with perfect candor. Upon this basis philosophy speculates
ever looking towards the poet, ever regarding the eternal tendencies of all
toward happiness never inconsistent with what is clear to the senses and to the
soul.For the eternal tendencies of all toward happiness make the only point of
sane philosophy. Whatever comprehends less than that … whatever is less than
the laws of light and of astronomical motion … or less than the laws that follow
the thief the liar the glutton and the drunkard through this life and doubtless
afterward … or less than vast stretches of time or the slow formation of density
or the patient upheaving of strata--is of no account. Whatever would put God in a
poem or system of philosophy as contending against some being or influence is
also of no account. Sanity and ensemble characterize the great master … spoilt
in one principle all is spoilt. The great master has nothing to do with miracles.
He sees health for himself in being one of the mass … he sees the hiatus in
singular eminence. to the perfect shape comes common ground. to be under the
general law is great, for that is to correspond with it. The master knows that
he is unspeakably great and that all are unspeakably great … that nothing for
instance is greater than to conceive children and bring them up well … that to
be is just as great as to perceive or tell.


In the make of the great masters the idea of political liberty is indispensable.
Liberty takes the adherence of heroes wherever men and women exist … but never
takes any adherence or welcome from the rest more than from poets. They are the
voice and exposition of liberty. They out of ages are worthy the grand idea …
to them it is confided and they must sustain it. Nothing has precedence of it
and nothing can warp or degrade it. The attitude of great poets is to cheer up
slaves and horrify despots. The turn of their necks, the sound of their feet,
the motions of their wrists, are full of hazard to the one and hope to the other.
Come nigh them awhile and though they neither speak nor advise you shall learn
the faithful American lesson. Liberty is poorly served by men whose good intent
is quelled from one failure or two failures or any number of failures, or from
the casual indifference or ingratitude of the people, or from the sharp show
of the tushes of power, or the bringing to bear soldiers and cannon or any penal
statutes. Liberty relies upon itself, invites no one, promises nothing, sits
in calmness and light, is positive and composed, and knows no discouragement.
The battle rages with many a loud alarm and frequent advance and retreat …
the enemy triumphs … the prison, the handcuffs, the iron necklace and anklet,
the scaffold, garrote and leadballs do their work … the cause is asleep …
the strong throats are choked with their own blood … the young men drop their
eyelashes toward the ground when they pass each other … and is liberty gone
out of that place? No never. When liberty goes it is not the first to go nor
the second or third to go … it awaits for all the rest to go … it is the
last… . When the memories of the old martyrs are faded utterly away … when
the large names of patriots are laughed at in the public halls from the lips
of the orators … when the boys are no more christened after the same but
christened after tyrants and traitors instead … when the laws of the free
are grudgingly permitted and the laws for informers and bloodmoney are sweet
to the taste of the people … when I and you walk abroad upon the earth stung
with compassion at the sight of numberless brothers answering our equal
friendship and calling no man master--and when we are elated with noble joy at
the sight of slaves … when the soul retires in the cool communion of the
night and surveys its experience and has much extasy over the word and deed
that put back a helpless innocent person into the gripe of the gripers or
into any cruel inferiority … when those in all parts of these states who
could easier realize the true American character but do not yet--when the
swarms of cringers, suckers, doughfaces, lice of politics, planners of sly
involutions for their own preferment to city offices or state legislatures
or the judiciary or congress or the presidency, obtain a response of love
and natural deference from the people whether they get the offices or no …
when it is better to be a bound booby and rogue in office at a high salary
than the poorest free mechanic or farmer with his hat unmoved from his head
and firm eyes and a candid and generous heart … and when servility by town
or state or the federal government or any oppression on a large scale or
small scale can be tried on without its own punishment following duly after
in exact proportion against the smallest chance of escape … or rather when
all life and all the souls of men and women are discharged from any part of
the earth--then only shall the instinct of liberty be discharged from that
part of the earth.


As the attributes of the poets of the kosmos concentre in the real body and
soul and in the pleasure of things they possess the superiority of genuineness
over all fiction and romance. As they emit themselves facts are showered
over with light … the daylight is lit with more volatile light … also the
deep between the setting and rising sun goes deeper many fold. Each precise
object or condition or combination or process exhibits a beauty … the
multiplication table its--old age its--the carpenter’s trade its--the grand
opera its--the hugehulled cleanshaped New-York clipper at sea under steam or
full sail gleams with unmatched beauty … the American circles and large
harmonies of government gleam with theirs … and the commonest definite
intentions and actions with theirs. The poets of the kosmos advance through
all interpositions and coverings and turmoils and stratagems to first
principles. They are of use … they dissolve poverty from its need and
riches from its conceit. You large proprietor, they say, shall not realize
or perceive more than any one else. The owner of the library is not he who
holds a legal title to it having bought and paid for it. Any one and every
one is owner of the library who can read the same through all the varieties
of tongues and subjects and styles, and in whom they enter with ease and
take residence and force toward paternity and maternity, and make supple
and powerful and rich and large.


These American states strong and healthy and accomplished shall receive no
pleasure from violations of natural models and must not permit them. In
paintings or mouldings or carvings in mineral or wood, or in the illustrations
of books and newspapers, or in any comic or tragic prints, or in the patterns
of woven stuffs or anything to beautify rooms or furniture or costumes, or
to put upon cornices or monuments or on the prows or sterns of ships, or to
put anywhere before the human eye indoors or out, that which distorts honest
shapes or which creates unearthly beings or places or contingencies, is a
nuisance and revolt. Of the human form especially, it is so great it must
never be made ridiculous. of ornaments to a work nothing outre can be
allowed … but those ornaments can be allowed that conform to the perfect
facts of the open air, and that flow out of the nature of the work and come
irrepressibly from it and are necessary to the completion of the work. Most
works are most beautiful without ornament … Exaggerations will be revenged
in human physiology. Clean and vigorous children are jetted and conceived
only in those communities where the models of natural forms are public
every day … Great genius and the people of these states must never be
demeaned to romances. As soon as histories are properly told there is no
more need of romances.


The great poets are also to be known by the absence in them of tricks and
by the justification of perfect personal candor. Then folks echo a new
cheap joy and a divine voice leaping from their brains: How beautiful is
candor! All faults may be forgiven of him who has perfect candor.
Henceforth let no man of us lie, for we have seen that openness wins the
inner and outer world and that there is no single exception, and that
never since our earth gathered itself in a mass have deceit or subterfuge
or prevarication attracted its smallest particle or the faintest tinge of
a shade--and that through the enveloping wealth and rank of a state or the
whole republic of states a sneak or sly person shall be discovered and
despised … and that the soul has never once been fooled and never can be
fooled … and thrift without the loving nod of the soul is only a foetid
puff … and there never grew up in any of the continents of the globe nor
upon any planet or satellite or star, nor upon the asteroids, nor in any
part of ethereal space, nor in the midst of density, nor under the fluid
wet of the sea, nor in that condition which precedes the birth of babes,
nor at any time during the changes of life, nor in that condition that
follows what we term death, nor in any stretch of abeyance or action
afterward of vitality, nor in any process of formation or reformation
anywhere, a being whose instinct hated the truth.


Extreme caution or prudence, the soundest organic health, large hope
and comparison and fondness for women and children, large alimentiveness
and destructiveness and causality, with a perfect sense of the oneness of
nature and the propriety of the same spirit applied to human affairs …
these are called up of the float of the brain of the world to be parts of
the greatest poet from his birth out of his mother’s womb and from her
birth out of her mother’s. Caution seldom goes far enough. It has been
thought that the prudent citizen was the citizen who applied himself to
solid gains and did well for himself and for his family and completed a
lawful life without debt or crime. The greatest poet sees and admits these
economies as he sees the economies of food and sleep, but has higher
notions of prudence than to think he gives much when he gives a few
slight attentions at the latch of the gate. The premises of the prudence
of life are not the hospitality of it or the ripeness and harvest of it.
Beyond the independence of a little sum laid aside for burial-money, and
of a few clapboards around and shingles overhead on a lot of American
soil owned, and the easy dollars that supply the year’s plain clothing
and meals, the melancholy prudence of the abandonment of such a great
being as a man is to the toss and pallor of years of money-making with
all their scorching days and icy nights and all their stifling deceits
and underhanded dodgings, or infinitesimals of parlors, or shameless
stuffing while others starve … and all the loss of the bloom and odor
of the earth and of the flowers and atmosphere and of the sea, and of
the true taste of the women and men you pass or have to do with in
youth or middle age, and the issuing sickness and desperate revolt at
the close of a life without elevation or naivete, and the ghastly chatter
of a death without serenity or majesty, is the great fraud upon modern
civilization and forethought, blotching the surface and system which civilization
undeniably drafts, and moistening with tears the immense features it spreads
and spreads with such velocity before the reached kisses of the soul. Still
the right explanation remains to be made about prudence. The prudence of
the mere wealth and respectability of the most esteemed life appears too
faint for the eye to observe at all when little and large alike drop quietly
aside at the thought of the prudence suitable for immortality. What is
wisdom that fills the thinness of a year or seventy or eighty years to
wisdom spaced out by ages and coming back at a certain time with strong
reinforcements and rich presents and the clear faces of wedding-guests
as far as you can look in every direction, running gaily toward you? Only
the soul is of itself … all else has reference to what ensues. All that a
person does or thinks is of consequence. Not a move can a man or woman
make that effects him or her in a day or a month or any part of the direct
lifetime or the hour of death but the same affects him or her onward afterward
through the indirect lifetime. The indirect is always as great and real as the
direct. The spirit receives from the body just as much as it gives to the body.
Not one name of word or deed … not of venereal sores or discolorations …
not the privacy of the onanist … not of the putrid veins of gluttons or
rumdrinkers … not peculation or cunning or betrayal or murder … no serpentine
poison of those that seduce women … not the foolish yielding of women … not prostitution … not of any depravity of young men … not of the attainment of
gain by discreditable means … not any nastiness of appetite … not any
harshness of officers to men or judges to prisoners or fathers to sons or sons
to fathers or of husbands to wives or bosses to their boys … not of greedy
looks or malignant wishes … nor any of the wiles practised by people upon
themselves … ever is or ever can be stamped on the programme but it is duly
realized and returned, and that returned in further performances … and they
returned again. Nor can the push of charity or personal force ever be anything
else than the profoundest reason, whether it bring argument to hand or no. No
specification is necessary … to add or subtract or divide is in vain. Little or big,
learned or unlearned, white or black, legal or illegal, sick or well, from the first
inspiration down the windpipe to the last expiration out of it, all that a male or
female does that is vigorous and benevolent and clean is so much sure profit to
him or her in the unshakable order of the universe and through the whole scope
of it for ever. If the savage or felon is wise it is well … if the greatest poet or
savan is wise it is simply the same … if the President or chief justice is wise it
is the same … if the young mechanic or farmer is wise it is no more or less …
if the prostitute is wise it is no more nor less. The interest will come round …
all will come round. All the best actions of war and peace … all help given to
relatives and strangers and the poor and old and sorrowful and young children
and widows and the sick, and to all shunned persons … all furtherance of fugitives
and of the escape of slaves … all the self-denial that stood steady and aloof on
wrecks and saw others take the seats of the boats … all offering of substance
or life for the good old cause, or for a friend’s sake or opinion’s sake … all
pains of enthusiasts scoffed at by their neighbors … all the vast sweet love and
precious sufferings of mothers … all honest men baffled in strifes recorded or unrecorded … all the grandeur and good of the few ancient nations whose
fragments of annals we inherit … and all the good of the hundreds of far
mightier and more ancient nations unknown to us by name or date or location …
all that was ever manfully begun, whether it succeeded or no … all that has at
any time been well suggested out of the divine heart of man or by the divinity
of his mouth or by the shaping of his great hands … and all that is well thought
or done this day on any part of the surface of the globe … or on any of the
wandering stars or fixed stars by those there as we are here … or that is
henceforth to be well thought or done by you whoever you are, or by any one--
these singly and wholly inured at their time and inure now and will inure always
to the identities from which they sprung or shall spring… . Did you guess any of
them lived only its moment? The world does not so exist … no parts palpable
or impalpable so exist … no result exists now without being from its long
antecedent result, and that from its antecedent, and so backward without the
farthest mentionable spot coming a bit nearer the beginning than any other spot….
Whatever satisfies the soul is truth. The prudence of the greatest poet answers
at last the craving and glut of the soul, is not contemptuous of less ways of
prudence if they conform to its ways, puts off nothing, permits no let-up for
its own case or any case, has no particular sabbath or judgment-day, divides not
the living from the dead or the righteous from the unrighteous, is satisfied with
the present, matches every thought or act by its correlative, knows no possible
forgiveness or deputed atonement … knows that the young man who composedly
perilled his life and lost it has done exceeding well for himself, while the man
who has not perilled his life and retains to old age in riches and ease has perhaps
achieved nothing for himself worth mentioning … and that only that person has no
great prudence to learn who has learnt to prefer real long-lived things, and favors
body and soul the same, and perceives the indirect assuredly following the direct,
and what evil or good he does leaping onward and waiting to meet him again--and
who in his spirit in any emergency whatever neither hurries or avoids death.


The direct trial of him who would be the greatest poet is to-day. If he does not
flood himself with the immediate age as with vast oceanic tides … and if he does
not attract his own land body and soul to himself, and hang on its neck with
incomparable love and plunge his semitic muscle into its merits and demerits … and
if he be not himself the age transfigured … and if to him is not opened the eternity
which gives similitude to all periods and locations and processes and animate and
inanimate forms, and which is the bond of time, and rises up from its inconceivable
vagueness and infiniteness in the swimming shape of to-day, and is held by the ductile
anchors of life, and makes the present spot the passage from what was to what shall
be, and commits itself to the representation of this wave of an hour and this one of
the sixty beautiful children of the wave--let him merge in the general run and wait his
development. Still the final test of poems or any character or work remains. The
prescient poet projects himself centuries ahead and judges performer or performance
after the changes of time. Does it live through them? Does it still hold on untired?
Will the same style and the direction of genius to similar points be satisfactory now?
Has no new discovery in science or arrival at superior planes of thought and judgment
and behavior fixed him or his so that either can be looked down upon? Have the
marches of tens and hundreds and thousands of years made willing detours to the right
hand and the left hand for his sake? Is he beloved long and long after he is buried?
Does the young man think often of him? and the young woman think often of him? and
do the middle aged and the old think of him?


A great poem is for ages and ages in common, and for all degrees and complexions, and
all departments and sects, and for a woman as much as a man and a man as much as a
woman. A great poem is no finish to a man or woman but rather a beginning. Has any
one fancied he could sit at last under some due authority and rest satisfied with
explanations and realize and be content and full? To no such terminus does the
greatest poet bring … he brings neither cessation or sheltered fatness and ease. The
touch of him tells in action. Whom he takes he takes with firm sure grasp into live
regions previously unattained … thenceforward is no rest … they see the space and
ineffable sheen that turn the old spots and lights into dead vacuums. The companion of
him beholds the birth and progress of stars and learns one of the meanings. Now there
shall be a man cohered out of tumult and chaos … the elder encourages the younger
and shows him how … they too shall launch off fearlessly together till the new world
fits an orbit for itself and looks unabashed on the lesser orbits of the stars and
sweeps through the ceaseless rings and shall never be quiet again.


There will soon be no more priests. Their work is done. They may wait awhile …
perhaps a generation or two … dropping off by degrees. A superior breed shall take
their place … the gangs of kosmos and prophets en masse shall take their place. A
new order shall arise and they shall be the priests of man, and every man shall be his
own priest. The churches built under their umbrage shall be the churches of men and
women. Through the divinity of themselves shall the kosmos and the new breed of
poets be interpreters of men and women and of all events and things. They shall find
their inspiration in real objects to-day, symptoms of the past and future… . They shall
not deign to defend immortality or God or the perfection of things or liberty or the
exquisite beauty and reality of the soul. They shall arise in America and be responded
to from the remainder of the earth.


The English language befriends the grand American expression … it is brawny enough
and limber and full enough … on the tough stock of a race who through all change of
circumstance was never without the idea of political liberty, which is the animus of all
liberty, it has attracted the terms of daintier and gayer and subtler and more elegant
tongues. It is the powerful language of resistance … it is the dialect of common sense
It is the speech of the proud and melancholy races and of all who aspire. It is the
chosen tongue to express growth faith self-esteem freedom justice equality
friendliness amplitude prudence decision and courage. It is the medium that shall well
nigh express the inexpressible.


No great literature nor any like style of behavior or oratory or social
intercourse or household arrangements or public institutions or the treatment
of bosses of employed people, nor executive detail or detail of the army and
navy, nor spirit of legislation or courts or police or tuition or architecture
or songs or amusements or the costumes of young men, can long elude the jealous
and passionate instinct of American standards. 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 today 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 or
forms? Does this acknowledge liberty with audible and absolute acknowledgment,
and set slavery at nought for life and death? Will it help breed one goodshaped
and wellhung 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 nipples of the breasts of the mother
of many children? Has it too the old ever-fresh forbearance and impartiality?
Does it look for 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 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 demeanor 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
towards 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. There is no
fear of mistake. If the one is true the other is true. The proof of a poet is that
his country absorbs him as affectionately as he has absorbed it.