BY BLUE ONTARIO'S SHORE

1

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 power-
ful yet,
And sing me before you go the song of the throes of
Democracy.

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

2

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 beauti-
ful or sinful in ourselves only.

-288-