A Few Lines Written in Defence of...
Posted: Sun Jan 01, 2012 10:46 am
A Few Lines Written in Defence of the Somewhat Unfashionable Discipline of History
© Stephen Whiteside 01.01.2012
The New Year is here. We've thrown out the Old.
It soon will be rotting, and covered with mould
With all of those others in heaps at the tip,
Forgotten forever once loosed from our grip.
But when no-one's looking I like to sneak out
To these mountains of years and fossick out.
I feel like a prospector looking for gold.
I come to a pile and lift up a fold.
There's treasure abundant all scattered around,
Up near the apex, or down on the ground.
I polish these gem-stones. They come up like new,
Then back in the present I place them on view.
Alas, there's too many. I can't reach them all.
There's so much to thrill and excite and enthrall.
Perhaps you can join me (there's no need for fears)
Exploring the infinite discarded years.
You can look in Australia, or search overseas;
You can rake the last decade, or pre-histories;
Prominent persons or places or wars;
Political theories or old household chores;
The broad sweep of hist'ry or detail minute;
The ugly, the pretty, the hostile, the cute;
The winners, the losers, the bad and the good;
Technology's compass, from i-phones to wood.
It's magic, I tell you, to find a good tale
In an era you've heard is outmoded and stale;
Embrace the New Year, yes, but don't lose the Old
For deep in its heart there are mountains of gold!
© Stephen Whiteside 01.01.2012
The New Year is here. We've thrown out the Old.
It soon will be rotting, and covered with mould
With all of those others in heaps at the tip,
Forgotten forever once loosed from our grip.
But when no-one's looking I like to sneak out
To these mountains of years and fossick out.
I feel like a prospector looking for gold.
I come to a pile and lift up a fold.
There's treasure abundant all scattered around,
Up near the apex, or down on the ground.
I polish these gem-stones. They come up like new,
Then back in the present I place them on view.
Alas, there's too many. I can't reach them all.
There's so much to thrill and excite and enthrall.
Perhaps you can join me (there's no need for fears)
Exploring the infinite discarded years.
You can look in Australia, or search overseas;
You can rake the last decade, or pre-histories;
Prominent persons or places or wars;
Political theories or old household chores;
The broad sweep of hist'ry or detail minute;
The ugly, the pretty, the hostile, the cute;
The winners, the losers, the bad and the good;
Technology's compass, from i-phones to wood.
It's magic, I tell you, to find a good tale
In an era you've heard is outmoded and stale;
Embrace the New Year, yes, but don't lose the Old
For deep in its heart there are mountains of gold!