The world pursues the very track Which it pursued at its creation; And mortals shrink in horror back From any hint of innovation: From year to year the children do Exactly what their sires have done; Time is! time was! -- there's nothing new, -- There's nothing new beneath the sun! Still lovers hope to be believed, Still clients hope to win their causes; Still plays and farces are received With most encouraging applauses; Still dancers have fantastic toes; Still dandies shudder at a dun; Still dinners have their fricandeaus, -- There's nothing new beneath the sun! Still cooks torment the hapless eels, Still boys torment the dumb cockchafers; Lord Eldon still adores the seals, Lord Clifford still adores the wafers; Still asses have enormous ears, Still gambling bets are lost and won; Still opera-dancers marry peers, -- There's nothing new beneath the sun! Still women are absurdly weak, Still infants dote upon a rattle; Still Mr Martin cannot speak Of any thing but beaten cattle; Still brokers swear the shares will rise, Still cockneys boast of Manton's gun; Still listeners swallow monstrous lies, -- There's nothing new beneath the sun! Still genius is a jest to earls, Still honesty is down to zero; Still heroines have spontaneous curls, Still novels have a handsome hero; Still Madame Vestris plays a man, Still fools adore her, I for one; Still youths write sonnets to a fan, -- There's nothing new beneath the sun! Still people make a plaguy fuss, About all things that don't concern them, As if it matters aught to us, What happens to our grandsons, burn them! Still life is nothing to the dead, Still Folly's toil is Wisdom's fun; And still, except the Brazen Head, -- There's nothing new beneath the sun! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE PRIESTHOOD by GEORGE HERBERT HITOPADESA: DEDICATION by EDWIN ARNOLD ODE TO THE CONNECTICUT RIVER by JOSIAS LYNDON ARNOLD URANIA; THE WOMAN IN THE MOON: DEDICATION TO LADY PENELOPE DYNHAM by WILLIAM BASSE CEDARS OF LEBANON AT WARWICK CASTLE by MATHILDE BLIND ON A TORSO OF CUPID by MATHILDE BLIND NATALIA'S RESURRECTION: 14 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |