Poem: “Nothing New” by Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Poems of life

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American Literature – American Poetry – Ella Wheeler Wilcox – Poems by Ella Wheeler Wilcox – Poems of life
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Nothing New

FROM the dawn of spring till the year grows hoary,
  Nothing is new that is done or said,
The leaves are telling the same old story–
  “Budding, bursting, dying, dead.”
And ever and always the wild birds’ chorus
  Is “coming, building, flying, fled.”

Never the round Earth roams or ranges
  Out of her circuit, so old, so old,
And the smile o’ the sun knows but these changes–
  Beaming, burning, tender, cold,
As spring-time softens or winter estranges
  The mighty heart of this orb of gold.

From our great sire’s birth to the last morn’s breaking
  There were tempest, sunshine, fruit, and frost.
And the sea was calm or the sea was shaking
  His mighty mane like a lion crossed,
And ever this cry the heart was making–
  Longing, loving, losing, lost.

For ever the wild wind wanders, crying,
  Southerly, easterly, north and west,
And one worn song the fields are sighing,
  “Sowing, growing, harvest, rest,”
And the tired thought of the world, replying
  Like an echo to what is last and best,
          Murmurs–“Rest.”

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American Literature – American Poetry – Ella Wheeler Wilcox – Poems by Ella Wheeler Wilcox – Poems of life

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Poems of life

Nothing New

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