America is God’s Crucible, the great Melting-Pot where all the races of Europe are melting and re-forming!
How full and rich a world
Theirs to inhabit is–
Sweet scent of grass and bloom,
Playmates’ glad symphony,
Cool touch of western wind,
Sunshine’s divine caress.
How should they know or feel
They are in darkness?
But, oh, the miracle!
If a Redeemer came,
Laid finger on their eyes–
One touch and what a world,
New-born in loveliness!
No… the real American has not yet arrived. He is only in the Crucible, I tell you — he will be the fusion of all races, perhaps the coming superman.
- Evelyn Waugh English Novelist
- Arnold Bennett British Novelist
- Gladys Bronwyn Stern British Novelist
- Dodie Smith British Novelist
- Mary Elizabeth Braddon British Novelist
- Graham Greene British Novelist
- Doris Lessing British Novelist, Poet
- Agatha Christie British Novelist
- P. D. James British Novelist
- H. G. Wells English Novelist, Historian