ANACREONTIC. FOR THE NEW YEAR.

OME, fill up the Bowl, for if ever the glass Found a proper excuse or fit season, For toasts to be honour’d, or pledges to pass, Sure, this hour brings an exquisite reason: For hark! the last chime of the dial has ceased, And Old Time, who his leisure to cozen, Had finish’d the Months, like the flasks at a feast, Is preparing to tap a fresh dozen! Hip! Hip! and Hurrah! Then fill, all ye Happy and Free, unto whom The past Year has been pleasant and sunny; Its months each as sweet as if made of the bloom Of the thyme whence the bee gathers honey— Days usher’d by dew-drops, instead of the tears, May be wrung from some wretcheder cousin— Then fill, and with gratitude join in the cheers That triumphantly hail a fresh dozen! Hip! Hip! and Hurrah! And ye, who have met with Adversity’s blast, And been bow’d to the earth by its fury;

O whom the Twelve Months, that have recently pass’d, Were as harsh as a prejudiced jury,— Still, fill to the Future! and join in our chime, The regrets of remembrance to cozen, And having obtained a New Trial of Time, Shout in hopes of a kindlier dozen! Hip! Hip! and Hurrah!