OLD WORLD , you are full of dreams —
Dreams of your beautiful past;
Of those rich, lost days of pomp and praise —
Times that have vanished fast.
I see a light in your ancient eyes
Like embers dying at last.

Old World, Old World of wars and pain,
Old World of Captains proudly slain,
I hear the tread of the noisy years,
And the dreadful beat of the rain.

II

New World, you are bright with youth —
An armor that girds your breast;
I see your light through the terrible night,
I feel your glad unrest;
And though the Old World's dreams are sweet,
Your wild desires are best.

New World, New World, no ivied walls,
No ruins stand where your young voice calls;
Over your clean new domes and towers
Only the sunlight falls!

III

Old World, you have bowed your head,
Grown gray through the sharp, swift years;
And wherever I go, in fog or snow,
Your ghostly pageant appears:
A lonely line of Kings and Queens
Consumed with heavy fears.

Old World, I am tired of things now dead,
Of memories, and prayers long said;
I sigh for the quickening pulse of youth,
And a new star overhead!

IV

New World, your dreams are white;
You live in the days to be,
And every hour you know your power,
And look to the sunlit sea;
Not yours to make the Past a shrine
Whereat you bend the knee.

New World, New World, do more than this —
Build many a bright metropolis,
And snatch from the Old World's beauty and dreams
A greater world of bliss!