Establishment Is Shocked

Establishment is shocked. Stir no adventure 
Upon this splitted granite.

I will no longer connive
At my own destruction:—I will not again climb, 
Breaking my finger nails, out of reach of the reaching wave,
To save
What I hope will still be me
When I have slid on slime and clutched at slippery rock-weed, 
—and had my face towed under
In scrubbing pebbles, under the weight of the wave and its
—thunder.
I decline to scratch at this cliff. If is not a word.
I will connive no more
With that which hopes and plans that I shall not survive: 
Let the tide keep its distance;
Or advance, and be split for a moment by a thing very small but
—all resistance;
Then do its own chore.