O, Tempora! O, Mores! (E.A.P.)
O, Times! O, Manners! It is my opinion That you are changing sadly your dominion — I mean the reign of manners hath long ceased, For men have none at all, or bad at least; And as for times, altho’ ’tis said by many The “good old times” were far the worst of any, Of which sound doctrine l believe each tittle, Yet still I think these worse than them a little. I’ve been a thinking — isn’t that the phrase? — I like your Yankee words and Yankee ways — I’ve been a thinking, whether it were best To take things seriously, or all in jest; Whether, with grim Heraclitus of yore, To weep, as he did, till his eyes were sore, Or rather laugh with him, that queer philosopher, Democritus of Thrace, who used to toss over The page of life and grin at the dog-ears, As though he’d say, “Why, who the devil cares?” This is a question which, oh heaven, withdraw The luckless query from a member’s claw! Instead of two sides, Bob has nearly eight, Each fit to furnish forth four hours debate. What shall be done?...
