Poets to come! Orators, singers, musicians to come! Not to-day is to justify me and answer what I am for, but you, a new brood, native, athletic, continental, greater than before known, Arouse! For you must justify me.
I myself but write one or two indicative words for the future, I but advance a moment only to wheel and hurry back in the darkness.
I am a man who, sauntering along without fully stopping turns a casual look upon you and then averts his face, Leaving it to you to prove and define it, Expecting the main things from you.