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NEW-YEAR VERSES, FOR THOSE WHO CARRY THE PENNSYLVANIA GAZETTE TO THE CUSTOMERS. JANUARY, 1, 1784.
HOW Things have chang'd since last New-Year,
What dismal Prospects then arose!
Scarce at your Doors I dar'd appear,
So multifarious were our Woes:
But Time at length has chang'd the Scene,
Our Prospects now are more serene.
Bad News we brought you every Day,
Your Seamen slain, your Ships on Shore,
The Army fretting for their Pay—
'Twas well they had not fretted more!
'Twas wrong indeed to wear out Shoes,
To bring you nothing but bad News.
Now let's be joyful for the change—
The Folks that guard the English Throne
Have giv'n us ample Room to range,
And more, perhaps, than was their own;
To Western Lakes they stretch our Bounds,
And yield the Indian Hunting Grounds.
But pray read on another Year,
Remain the humble News-man's Friend;
And he'll engage to let you hear
What Europe's Princes next intend.—
E'en now their Brains are all at work,
To rouse the Russian on the Turk.
Well—if they fight, then fight they must,
They are a strange, contentious Breed;
One good Effect will be, I trust,
The more that's kill'd, the more you'll read;
For [...] Experience [...]lly shews,
THAT WRANGLING IS THE LIFE OF NEWS.