[1] If there be nothing new, but that which is
[2] Hath been before, how are our brains beguiled,
[3] Which, labouring for invention, bear amiss
[4] The second burden of a former child!
[5] O, that record could with a backward look,
[6] Even of five hundred courses of the sun,
[7] Show me your image in some antique book,
[8] Since mind at first in character was done!
[9] That I might see what the old world could say
[10] To this composed wonder of your frame;
[11] Whether we are mended, or whether better they,
[12] Or whether revolution be the same.
[13] O, sure I am, the wits of former days
[14] To subjects worse have given admiring praise.
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