Long have the poets vaunted, in their lays, <br /> Old times, old loves, old friendships, and old wine <br />Why should the old monopolise all praise? <br /> Then let the new claim mine. <br /> <br />Give me strong new friends, when the old prove weak, <br /> Or fail me in my darkest hour of need; <br />Why perish with the ship that springs a leak, <br /> Or lean upon a read? <br /> <br />Give me new love, warm, palpitating, sweet, <br /> When all the grace and beauty leaves the old; <br />When like a rose it withers at my feet, <br /> Or like a hearth grows cold. <br /> <br />Give me new times, bright with a prosperous cheer, <br /> In place of old, tear-blotted, burdened days; <br />I hold a sunlit present far more dear, <br /> And worthy of my praise. <br /> <br />When the old creeds are threadbare, and worn through, <br /> And all too narrow for the broadening soul, <br />Give me the fine, firm texture of the new, <br /> Fair, beautiful and whole.<br /><br />Ella Wheeler Wilcox<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/old-and-new-2/
