New

Still sighs the world for something new,
For something new;
Imploring me, imploring you,
Some Will-o'-wisp to help pursue;
Ah, hapless world, what will it do!
Imploring me, imploring you,
For something new!

Each pleasure, tasted, fades away,
It fades away;
Nor you, nor I can bid it stay,
A dew-drop trembling on a spray;
A rainbow at the close of day;
Nor you, nor I can bid it stay;
It fades away.

Fill up life's chalice to the brim;
Up to the brim;
'Tis only a capricious whim;
A dreamy phantom, flitting dim,
Inconstant still for Her, or Him;
'Tis only a capricious whim,
Up to the brim!

She, young and fair, expects delight;
Expects delight;
Forsooth, because the morn is bright,
She deems it never will be night,
That youth hath not a wing for flight,
Forsooth, because the morn is bright,
Expects delight!

The rose, once gather'd, cannot please,
It cannot please;
Ah, simple maid, a rose to seize,
That only blooms to tempt and tease:
With thorns to rob the heart of ease;
Ah, simple maid, a rose to seize;
It cannot please!

'Tis winter, but she pines for spring;
She pines for spring;
No bliss its frost and follies bring;
A bird of passage on the wing;
Unhappy, discontented thing;
No bliss its frost and follies bring;
She pines for spring!

Delicious May, and azure skies;
And azure skies;
With flowers of paradisial dyes;
Now, maiden, happy be and wise:
Ah, June can only charm her eyes
With flowers of paradisial dyes,
And azure skies!

The glowing, tranquil summertime;
The summertime;
Too listless in a maiden's prime,
Dull, melancholy pantomime;
Oh, for a gay autumnal clime:
Too listless in a maiden's prime,
The summertime!

October! with earth's richest store;
Earth's richest store;
Alas! insipid as before;
Days, months, and seasons, o'er and o'er,
Remotest lands their treasures pour;
Alas, insipid as before,
Earth's richest store!

Love nestles in that gentle breast;
That gentle breast;
Ah, love will never let it rest;
The cruel, sly, ungrateful guest;
A viper in a linnet's nest,
Ah, love will never let it rest;
That gentle breast!

Could she embark on Fashion's tide;
On fashion's tide;
How gaily might a maiden glide; —
Contentment, innocence, and pride,
All stranded upon either side; —
How gaily might a maiden glide,
On fashion's tide!

Ah, maiden, time will make thee smart:
Will make thee smart;
Some new, and keen, and poison'd dart,
Will pierce at last that restless heart;
Youth, friends, and beauty will depart;
Some new, and keen, and poisoned dart,
Will make thee smart!

So pants for change the fickle fair;
The fickle fair;
A feather, floating in the air,
Still wafted here, and wafted there,
No charm, no hazard worth her care;
A feather floating in the air,
The fickle fair!

How sad his lot, the hapless swain;
The hapless swain;
With care, and toil, in heat and rain,
To speed the plough or harvest-wain;
Still reaping only fields of grain,
With care, and toil, in heat and rain;
The hapless swain!

Youth, weary youth, 'twill soon be past;
'Twill soon be past;
His manhood's happiness shall last;
Renown, and riches, far and fast,
Their potent charms shall round him cast,
His Manhood's happiness shall last: —
'Twill soon be past!

Now toiling up ambition's steep;
Ambition's steep;
The rugged path is hard to keep;
The spring how far! the well how deep!
Ah me! in folly's bower asleep!
The rugged path is hard to keep;
Ambition's steep!

The dream fulfilled! rank, fortune, fame;
Rank, fortune, fame;
Vain fuel for celestial flame!
He wins and wears a glittering name,
Yet sighs his longing soul the same;
Vain fuel for celestial flame,
Rank, fortune, fame!

Sweet beauty aims with Cupid's bow;
With Cupid's bow;
Can she transfix him now? — ah, no!
Amid the fairest flowers that blow,
The torment but alights — to go:
Can she transfix him now? — ah, no,
With Cupid's bow!

Indulgent heav'n, O grant but this,
O grant but this,
The boon shall be enough of bliss,
A home, with true affection's kiss,
To mend whate'er may hap amiss,
O grant but this!

The Eden won: — insatiate still;
Insatiate still; —
A wider, fairer range, he will;
Some mountain higher than his hill;
Some prospect fancy's map to fill;
A wider, fairer range, he will;
Insatiate still!

From maid to matron, son to sire:
From son to sire,
Each bosom burns with quenchless fire,
Where life's vain phantasies expire
In some new phoenix of desire;
Each bosom burns with quenchless fire,
From son to sire!

Still sighs the world for something new;
For something new;
Imploring me, imploring you
Some Will-o'-wisp to help pursue;
Ah hapless world, what will it do!
Imploring me, imploring you,
For something new!