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Admirers, importers, obedient persons, make 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 advance to meet them—
there is no fear of mistake,
The proof of a poet shall be sternly deferred, till his
country absorbs him as affectionately as he has
absorbed it,

31. 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 poems, philosophy, politics, manners,
engineering, an appropriate native grand-opera,
shipcraft, any craft, he or she is greatest who
contributes the greatest original practical example.
 
32. Already a nonchalant breed, silently emerging, fills
the houses and 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;