Classic Poem

A boy I mastered exercise and game:
I threw the discus, and I drove the ball;
I ran the course, I cleared the hurdles all;
At boxing swift in parry, lunge, and aim;
A wrestler, fencer, turner; with a frame
To skate in moonlight down the river where,
On summer noondays, diving bronze and bare,
I swam the bend for joy and not for fame.

And these, with mastery of plane and saw,
Judged as traditions of wise years behind,
No less than legend, language, art, and law —
I mean as wisdom of our human kind —
I hold, with something of historic awe,
Among the assets of a noble mind.