By Blue Ontario's Shore

By Blue Ontario's Shore

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By blue Ontario's shore,
As I mused of these warlike days and of peace return'd, and
     the dead that return no more,
A Phantom gigantic superb, with stern visage accosted me,
Chant me the poem, it said, that comes from the soul of
     America, chant me the carol of victory,
And strike up the marches of Libertad, marches more powerful
     yet,
And sing me before you go the song of the throes of
     Democracy.

(Democracy, the destin'd conqueror, yet treacherous
     lipsmiles everywhere,
And death and infidelity at every step.)

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A Nation announcing itself,
I myself make the only growth by which I can be appreciated,
I reject none, accept all, then reproduce all in my own forms.

A breed whose proof is in time and deeds,
What we are we are, nativity is answer enough to objections,
We wield ourselves as a weapon is wielded,
We are powerful and tremendous in ourselves,
We are executive in ourselves, we are sufficient in the variety
     of ourselves,
We are the most beautiful to ourselves and in ourselves,
We stand self-pois'd in the middle, branching thence over the
     world,
From Missouri, Nebraska, or Kansas, laughing attacks to
     scorn.
Nothing is sinful to us outside of ourselves,
Whatever appears, whatever does not appear, we are beautiful
     or sinful in ourselves only.

(O Mother — O Sisters dear!
If we are lost, no victor else has destroy'd us,
It is by ourselves we go down to eternal night.)

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Have you thought there could be but a single supreme?
There can be any number of supremes — one does not countervail
     another any more than one eyesight countervails
     another, or one life countervails another.

All is eligible to all,
All is for individuals, all is for you,
No condition is prohibited, not God's or any.

All comes by the body, only health puts you rapport with the
     universe.

Produce great Persons, the rest follows.

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Piety and conformity to them that like,
Peace, obesity, allegiance, to them that like,
I am he who tauntingly compels men, women, nations,
Crying, Leap from your seats and contend for your lives!

I am he who walks the States with a barb'd tongue,
     questioning every one I meet,
Who are you that wanted only to be told what you knew
     before?
Who are you that wanted only a book to join you in your
     nonsense?
(With pangs and cries as thine own O bearer of many
     children,
These clamors wild to a race of pride I give.)
O lands, would you be freer than all that has ever been
     before?
If you would be freer than all that has been before, come
     listen to me.

Fear grace, elegance, civilization, delicatesse,
Fear the mellow sweet, the sucking of honey-juice,
Beware the advancing mortal ripening of Nature,
Beware what precedes the decay of the ruggedness of states
     and men.

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