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!