Classic Poem

Around the world I've been in many a guise,
In cape, or furs, or oilskin, fronting Fate;
Down rainy seas, through many a stormy strait,
By upland forests, over hills that rise
White, green, or crimson in the season skies;
Through civic arch and eagle-crested gate,
Imperial boulevards and halls of state;
And asked for Fame—and failed of every prize. …

Except, except the experienced eye and free,
And these impregnable old sides of mirth;
Except, except a glorious wisdom, worth
All the poor scorn these tatters bring to me:
Some feeling for the massy bulk of earth,
Some still monitions of mortality.