Christmas bills,
For the mince-pies, puddings, pastry, things which bring a thousand ills
In their train!
How they still come on me flocking,
With hateful “figures” mocking
My dazed brain.
And—ah, who’s that I hear knocking?
Oh, it’s positively shocking—
Doctor Squills!
With his recipes of powders, black draughts, pills,