Charles Cotton.
If New Year's Eve night wind blows south
It betokeneth warmth and growth;
If west, much milk, and fish in the sea;
If north, much cold and storms there will be;
If east, the trees will bear much fruit;
If north-east, flee it man and brute.
The New Year, with its yet unacted history,
Claims the homage of our last departing chime;
Then we hush ourselves in awe before the mystery,
Of the youngest and the freshest birth of Time.