THE MORNING AFTER

Here we are, friends, whole and hale

In or through the comet's tail;

And as far as we can say,

Matters are about as they

Were before.

Everything is much the same

As before the comet came.

Grasses grow and waters run —

Nothing new beneath the sun —

Same old sphere.

Life is drab or life is gay,

Thorny path or primrose way;

All is common, all is strange;

“Down the ringing grooves of change”

Spins the world.

Change but of a humdrum kind.

What we vaguely had in mind

Was some new sensation or

Thrill we never felt before.

Vain desire!

Nothing's added to the stock:

Same old shiver, same old shock.

Round about the sun we'll go

In the same old status quo.

Awful bore!