not appear once in
centuries.
We hear nothing of the popular conception of the poet, well reflected in
these lines of Tennyson:--
"The poet in a golden clime was born, with golden stars above."
"Golden stars" and "golden climes" do not figure at all in Whitman's
pages; the spirit of romance is sternly excluded.
Whitman's ideal poet is the most composite man, rich in temperament, rank
in the human attributes, embracing races and eras in himself. All men see
themselves in him:--
"The mechanic takes him for a mechanic,
And the soldier supposes him to be a soldier, and the sailor that he
has followed the sea,
And the authors take him for an author, and the artists for an artist,
And the laborers perceive he could labor with them and love them,
No matter what the work is, that he is the one to follow it, or has
followed it,
No matter what the nation, that he might find his brothers and sisters
there.
* * * * *
"The gentleman of perfect blood acknowledges his perfect blood,
The insulter, the prostitute, the angry person, the beggar, see
themselves in the ways of him, he strangely transmutes them,
They are not vile any more, they hardly know themselves they are so
grown."
Let us hold the poet to his own ideals, and not condemn him because he has
not aimed at something foreign to himself.
The questions which Whitman puts to him who would be an American poet may
fairly be put to himself.
"Are you faithful to things? Do you teach what the land and sea, the
bodies of men, womanhood, amativeness, heroic angers, teach?
Have you sped through fleeting customs, popularities?
Can you hold your hand against all seductions, follies, whirls, fierce
contentions? are you very strong? are you really of the whole
people?
Are you not of some coterie? some school, or mere religion?
Are you done with reviews and criticisms of life? animating now to
life itself?
Have you vivified yourself from the maternity of these States?
Have you, too, the old, ever-fresh forbearance and impartiality?
* * * * *
What is this you bring my America?
Is it uniform with my country?
Is it not something that has been better done or told before?
Have you not imported this or the spirit of it in some ship?
Is it not a mere tale? a rhyme? a pettiness?--is the goo
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