An Old Year's Address

"I have twankled the strings of the twinkering rain;
    I have burnished the meteor's mail;
        I have bridled the wind
        When he whinnied and whined
    With a bunch of stars tied to his tail;
But my sky-rocket hopes, hanging over the past,
Must fuzzle and fazzle and fizzle at last!"

I had waded far out in a drizzling dream,
    And my fancies had spattered my eyes
        With a vision of dread,
        With a number ten head,
    And a form of diminutive size -
That wavered and wagged in a singular way
As he wound himself up and proceeded to say, -

"I have trimmed all my corns with the blade of the moon;
    I have picked every tooth with a star:
        And I thrill to recall
        That I went through it all
    Like a tune through a tickled guitar.
I have ripped up the rainbow and raveled the ends
When the sun and myself were particular friends."

And pausing again, and producing a sponge
    And wiping the tears from his eyes,
        He sank in a chair
        With a technical air
    That he struggled in vain to disguise, -
For a sigh that he breathed, as I over him leant,
Was haunted and hot with a peppermint scent.

"Alas!" he continued in quavering tones
    As a pang rippled over his face,
        "The life was too fast
        For the pleasure to last
    In my very unfortunate case;
And I'm going" - he said as he turned to adjust
A fuse in his bosom, - "I'm going to - BUST!"

I shrieked and awoke with the sullen che-boom
    Of a five-pounder filling my ears;
        And a roseate bloom
        Of a light in the room
    I saw through the mist of my tears, -
But my guest of the night never saw the display,
He had fuzzled and fazzled and fizzled away!