Under the sun, groaned Solomon, There is no new thing, no, not one. Nothing by man or God devised Holds any wonder, unsurmised; And in no throat of woman or bird Sleeps any note man hath not heard. New things are but old things reborn; There is one wisdom, which is scorn. Solomon, you had too many wives, Whose little hands held little knives That softly on your splendor crept And stabbed your vision while you slept. Solomon, in too many eyes You sought the elusive heavenly prize. Only the steadfast and the true Find that which is forever new. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ALNWICK CASTLE by FITZ-GREENE HALLECK HYMN OF TRUST by OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES THE OLD TRAMP by PIERRE JEAN DE BERANGER NATALIA'S RESURRECTION: 22 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT A REGULAR GIRL by BERTON BRALEY THE WANDERER: 1. IN ITALY: A VISION by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON |