To the New Year

Welcome, New Year, but be more kind

Than thy dead father left behind;

If I may kiss no mouth that’s red,

Give me the open mouth instead

Of a black bottle of old wine

To gurgle in its neck and mine.

Let not my belly once complain

For want of meat, or fruit, or grain;

But keep it always tight and quiet-

No matter if with drink or diet.

And, New Year, may I never need

In vain a pipeful of strong weed,

That sends my baby clouds on high

To join big brothers in the sky.

No gold I ask, but that I may

Have some small silver every day

Not for one night let sleep forsake

My side, and show the Morning break;

Let me not hear Time’s strokes in bed,

And feel the pain of on thought dead,

Who hears the earth cast in his grave.

I care not what poor clothes I have;

I’ll only think it shame and sin

To show my naked thigh or shin

When the wind blows.  Give me, New Year,

Tobacco, bread and meat, and beer.

Also a few old books, so I

Can read about an age gone by;

But as for how the present goes-

I’ll thank the Lord the Devil knows.