Classic Poem

La camete de 1832

God against us, it seems, is launching a comet;
Great will the shock be — we can't 'scape from it:
Our planet, I feel, is fast crumbling away;
The Astronomers Royal are wrong to-day
With the table, I'll bid all the guests adieu —
'Twas but a poor banquet, save for a few:
Off, off to confession, ye timidly-souled;
Let's have done with the world — 'tis sufficiently old!

Yes, away poor globe, through space go bounding,
Thy days and thy nights all in one confounding —
Like a kite, when the string no longer it feels,
Turn, tumble, and turn again, head over heels!
Yes, course it through paths unseen by our eyes,
And shiver thyself on some sun in the skies;
Should you chance put it out, plenty more you'll behold;
Let's have done with the world — 'tis sufficiently old!

Who shrinks not from vulgar ambition's claims,
From fools decked out with high sounding names?
To rapine, war, blunders, abuse, who clings?
To nations of lacqueys, and lackeyfied kings?
Who is not sick of our gods of plaster,
Sick that the " good time " comes no faster?
'Tis too much for this limited sphere to enfold;
Let's have done with the world — 'tis sufficiently old!

" All moves on; without noise, forsooth,
Men are filing their chains, " I am told by youth:
" For the press gives knowledge, and gas gives light,
And high seas are laid low by the steam-ship's might
Twenty years at the most, good sir, we beg,
And a ray from the skies shall then hatch the egg "
Thirty years, the same story, my friends, I've been told;
Let's have done with the world — 'tis sufficiently old!

Far other the words in young life I spoke,
When first in my heart love and joy awoke
" Earth, " said I then, " ah! thou never must stray
From the circle of bliss where God points thy way! "
But I'm aging, and Beauty rejects my vow;
Hushed my voice, and no music to cheer me now:
Come, implacable Comet, then; o'er us be rolled;
Let's have done with the world — 'tis sufficiently old!