* * * * *

THE NEW YEAR

_(For the Mirror.)_


Twenty-nine, Father Janus! and can it be true,
That your _double-fac'd_ sconce is again in our view?
Take a chair, my old boy--while our glasses we fill,
And tell us, "what news"--for you can if you will.

Shall we have any war? or will there be peace?
Will swindlers, as usual, the credulous fleece?
Will the season produce us a _deluge_ of rain?
Did the comet bring coughs and catarrhs in his train?

Will gas, so delicious, _perfume_ our abodes?
Will McAdam continue "Colossus of _roads?_"
Will Venus's boy be abroad with his bow,
And make the dear girls over bachelors crow?

Will _quid-nuncs_ from scandalous whispers refrain?
Will poets the pent of Parnassus attain?
Will travellers' tomes touch the truth to a T?
Will critics from caustic coercion be free?

Shall we check crafty care in his cunning career?
In short--shall we welcome a happy new year?