"O, Tempora! O, Mores!" is a satirical poem by Edgar Allan Poe that takes sharp, comedic aim at the declining manners and hollow vanities of his era. The speaker wrestles with whether to weep like Heraclitus or laugh like Democritus at the absurdity around him — and settles, grumpily, on a growl. His chief target is a preening shop boy named Pitts, whose curls, coat, and ankle consume more thought than his brain ever could. Poe's wit is dry, his mockery affectionate yet cutting.
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