Classic Poem

GOOD-BYE ! Soon, soon I go, O Hard New World!
I have not time to learn you, nor the will.
The things I loved into the pit you hurled —
Exalted those unlovely and of ill.

I do not say what makes you hard — or know:
Perhaps so much young blood let from your veins,
In late libation to the Gods Below,
That frosty rigor in your nature reigns?

You have your tumults and your titan throbs,
But harsh the elements and base the ends;
And the dark Genius back of you but robs,
While to the wrestler riches it portends.

I would not be the new-born child to-day,
O Hard New World, to walk with you, your way!