In his 1841 play Pippa Passes Robert Browning wrote:
The year's at the spring
And day's at the morn;
Morning's at seven;
The hillside's dew-pearled;
The lark's on the wing;
The snail's on the thorn:
God's in His heaven—
All's right with the world!
That was then. THIS is now.
That one day it's spring
then winter's reborn
may cause one to grouse
and make one feel strong
that in the West Wing
we've reason to mourn
Trump's in the White House
and everything's wrong