(_By an Old Buffer._)
"There is nothing new under the sun," someone says;
I wish that there _wasn't_, by Jingo!
It seems to me _everything_'s New in these days,
And nothing is genuine old stingo.
A New Poet turns up about once a week
(According to log-rolling rumour);
And there's the New Politics, all grab and sneak;
And something dull dubbed the New Humour!
The New Art; I'm certain _it_ comes from Old Nick,
It's so diabolic and dirty.
Faith! some of their Novelties make me feel sick,
And most of them make me feel "shirty."
The New Year!--well, that is as old as the hills.
The New Leaf--we annually turn it.
Ah! if the New Newness would banish Old Ills.
Not e'en an Old Fogey would spurn it.
New Year, give us books that are healthy and gay,
And Art that's not impish or queer, Sir!
And _if_ you'll but cart the _New Woman_ away,
You _will_ be a Happy New Year, Sir!
* * * * *