A Visit from St. Nicholas
Bounce, all hands to Fishkill must go in a clutter
To guzzle bohea and destroy bread and butter!
While you at New Lebanon stand all forlorn
Behind the cold counter from evening to morn.
The old tenor merchants push nigher and nigher
Till fairly they shut out poor Baze from the fire.
Out, out, my dear brother, Aunt Amy's just come
With a flask for molasses and a bottle for rum.
Run! Help the poor creature to light from her jade,
You see the dear lady's a power afraid.
Souse into your arms she leaps like an otter
And smears your new coat with a piggin of butter.
Next an army of shakers your quarters beleager
With optics distorted and visages meagre,
To fill their black runlets with brandy and gin —
Two blessed exorcists to drive away sin.
But laugh away sorrow nor mind it a daisy
Since it matters but little, my dear brother Bazee,
Whether here you are rolling in pastime and pleasure
Or up at New Labanon taffety measure.
If the sweetest of lasses, contentment, you find,
And the banquet enjoy of an undisturb'd mind,
Of friendship & love let who will make a pother
Believe me, dear Baze, your affectionate brother
Will never forget the fifth son of his mother.
P. S. If it suits your convenience, remit if you please
To my good brother Paul an embrace and a squeeze.
73
