Glad That's Over With

Now must we up and celebrate
With sundry kinds of fun,
The world's transporting our dead weight
Once more around the sun.

With resolutions firm and clear
We'll pledge our vice to tame;
And once again, this time next year,
We shall resolve the same.

Strange custom, joyously to greet
A foul year not yet past,
Ignoring thus our noble feat:
We have survived the last.
Prosper Gleet