Which three lines or phrases from this excerpt of her poem "Poetry" does Marianne Moore use to show the impact of great poetry?

I, too, dislike it: there are things that are important beyond all this fiddle.
Reading it, however, with a perfect contempt for it, one
discovers in
it after all, a place for the genuine.
Hands that can grasp, eyes
that can dilate, hair that can rise if it must,
these things are important not because a
high-sounding interpretation can be put upon them but because
they are
useful. . .

She took up a scalpel and slit the monkey's abdomen, making a slow and gentle cut, keeping the blade well away from her gloved fingers. the spleen was puffed up and tough, leathery, like a globe of smoked salami. she did not see any bloody lesions inside this monkey. she had expected that the monkey's interior would be a lake of blood, but no, this monkey looked all right, it had not bled into itself. if the animal had died of ebola, this was not a clear case. she opened up the intestine. there was no blood inside it. the gut looked okay. then she examined the stomach. there she found a ring of bleeding spots at the junction between the stomach and the small intestine. this could be a sign of ebola, but it was not a clear sign. it could also be a sign of simian fever, not ebola. therefore, she could not confirm the presence of ebola virus in this animal based on a visual inspection of the internal organs during necropsy.