Time! Time ! It passes rapidly
  How fast the moments fly,
How very solemn is the thought
  A year’s about to die.
And yet how peaceful and how calm,
  No groan or cry or shock;
And yet tis past the hour of twelve
  By our old office clock.
But I must think of my address,
  To-morrow’s New Year’s Day.
No, I will watch till ’53
 (My friend) has passed away.
It makes me sad to leave a friend,
  My cheeks with tears are wet
And for a pocket-handkerchief
  I’ll use an old Gazette.

***

T. Donnelly, our chief in days of yore,
  Is now fulfilling a different mission;
And in his bang-up new cheap store
  Has taken, in trade, a famous position.
And here I’ll say (but not aloud)
  What—perhaps some of you know,
He must have hook’d—not bought—his goods,
  He sells so awful low.

***

What has transpired in ’53
  Of it I need not speak,
You know it all, as just you should,
  I’ve told you every week.

***

You’ve heard about the war between
  The Turkey and the Bear;
If not—I’ll tell you how it is,
  And you tell if its fair.
The Emperor of Russia is
  A mortal wicked sinner,
He tried to rob a roost, and steal
  A Turkey, for his dinner.
But the old bird was wide awake
  He got his fingers bit—
And now he’s gone to war he finds
  The fine old Turkey’s grit.
But I must stop—long live our Queen,
  In health, wealth, peace and joy,
You all will cry amen to that
  With me, the CARRIER BOY.
And now I wish you, every one
  Good times, good Friends, good cheer,
Good health; and all and every one
  A happy good New Year.

PICTON,. 1^st JANUARY,
ANNO DOMINI MDCCCLIV.