Sonnet 59

If there be nothing new, but that which isHath been before, how are our brains beguiled,Which, labouring for invention, bear amissThe second burden of a former child!O, that record could with a backward look,Even of five hundred courses of the sun,Show me your image in some antique book,Since mind at first in character was done!That I might see what the old world could sayTo this composed wonder of your frame;Whether we are mended, or whether better they,Or whether revolution be the same. O, sure I am, the wits of former days To subjects worse have given admiring praise.
Is nothing new under the sun?Is time a wheel spinning and spun?When it comes to my boo,well, it just can't be true.There's no way there's been more than one.