This page has been validated.
NEW YEAR'S EVE
It's cruel cold on the water-front, silent and dark and drear;
Only the black tide weltering, only the hissing snow;
And I, alone, like a storm-tossed wreck, on this night of the glad New Year,
Shuffling along in the icy wind, ghastly and gaunt and slow.
They're playing a tune in McGuffy's saloon, and it's cheery and bright in there
(God! but I'm weak—since the bitter dawn, and never a bite of food);
I'll just go over and slip inside—I mustn't give way to despair—
Perhaps I can bum a little booze if the boys are feeling good.
110
