With a bottle and friend— Friend is Tom and bottle sherry— I shall now begin and end This brief space where two years blend, Wondrous wise and merry. Never yet was such a woe That had not a pleasure pressing Close upon its heels; and so Through the Old and New we go, Each at some time blessing. Though the Old Year brought to me Little joy and much of sorrow, In the New I hope to be Happier; my joys, you see, Always come—to-morrow. So, as New Year's Eve doth end, Tom, and I, and golden sherry— Finest wine and oldest friend— Kill the space where two years blend Making wondrous merry. |