O THE EW YEAR. BY DOW JR.

Text. — ^It is well for man that the dull chain of existence has here and there a golden link, at which we are permitted to pause, for the relaxation of mind and heart, and gather strength for the great struj^gle of existence. The opening of the new year is one of these bright occurrences. Beloved friends — I, for this single time, In a poetic strain attempt to preach ; -¦^ That is to say, I give a dose of rhyme — ** A purgative that I prescribe for each. Which works its way through all that's in its reach, Slips down the throat as sleek as castor oil. And puri/ies the morals. I beseech You, one and all, to neither flinch, nor coil. or turn your noses up at Dr. Muse's toil. Another year is even now beginning. For Wednesday last was happy ew Year's day ; And now's the hour for us to leave off sinning In a degree, while at this link we stay; For age and sin will shortly turn us grey— And Time, that old bow-shinn'd, bald-headed loafer. With scythe, just whet, is chasing us away Into corruption, that before we go far, We all shall wish that we'd not trardUed even bo hi.

But I must wink at all those little crimes That witching ew Year's heaped upon your backs ; Unless you mock'd the fashion of the times. And took too many catty-cornered tracks. Making but Uftle headway with the tacks.

•aORT PATJBMT SBEMOKS. %% While calling on the ladies— that won^ do ! It loosens all the moral screws, and racks Virtue's slim fabric, when a man gets blue, — Shuts up his reason — and sometimes his clam-shell, too I I made some calls, and some I didn't make Because the chain of age that binds my feet. Is very short — and yet I tried to take A step or two beyond its length, to meet Those heavenly female smiles, which always greet ~ Me with a joyous welcome. Would that I Could burst these fetters ! — ^then I'd eat Of every wholesome pleasure, far and nigh, And feel the bliss, but not the curse of living high. Time used me pretty fair, that day, moreover, For I felt young about the heart's domain ; And revell'd in the tallest kind of clover ; And should have thought myself a boy again ; But these white locks pronounced the fancy vainj And these weak knees too confidently told That nought but childish folly fired my brain ; That I should jiever dance, as once of old.

Amid the ring-tail, rousing storms that beat so cold. But you, young folks, can dance, and drink, and sing. When new years dawn upon your careless heads ; Much pleasure, mirth and sport to you they bring That is, if they dont bring you to your beds ; For on such days, a devil is loose, who weds Many to disappointment, sorrow, wo ; And such a devil every mortal drc;^s. Who, by experience, may chance to know That brandy fire is just the same as that — ^below. Be fonder of the women than of wine. But don't get drunk with neither one nor t'other : When both their overwhelming powers combine,

fft lUOBT PAT£1«T SEEMOMS. They place a fellow in a dreadful pother ; For both are sometimes maddening : — sa they bother The better sense of erring man, and kill The finer feelings — lest we fairly smother The rising flames, ere they shall scorch the will, And leave us all * spirits of wine,' or ghosts of ill. ew Year, as eays my text, is a good place To pause and gather strength for the next shove Toward the grave, where we must end the race. ow should we all look back, and each reprove

Himself, if wanting charity or love. And try henceforth to keep as pure and clean From this world's filth, as any harmless dove ; For with a half an eye it may be seen. That we must not depend on any go-between. Pm growing old, and you will all be soon, Pitch'd clear into the middle of next year ; I wouldn't bet the hide of a raccoon That the great final day is not close here ! At any rate 'twill soon enough appear ! For years roll round most thunderingly quick : They vanish soon, like froth on new-drawn beer, Or like the dreams of night they cut their stick. And leave a few dry bones for Memory's dog to pick. ow, brethren, make the wise determination To strike out a new track for your poor lives, And look out sharply, now, for the salvation Of all your sweethearts, daughters, sons and wives, For anybody knows that he who strives. Can paddle safely out the evil sea, And land upon that blessed shore, where thrives othing but good, through all eternity. Forever and forever more. So mote it be !

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