His mind a maze, like Mr. TOOTS's,
Has married money, keeps a hack,
And has a big account at COUTTS's.

TOM owns a house in Belgrave Square,
And DICK is noted for his dinners--
Life is a race, but was it fair,
We asked, that _these_ should be the winners?

We, too, would win; and Heaven knows
What vows we uttered fiery-hearted,
While '89 drew to its close,
And '90 found us--so we parted.

* * * * *

And here, good lack, while '90 wanes,
Our candles flaring in their sockets,
We sit once more and count our gains--
Wrinkles, grey hairs, and empty pockets.

Yet, Heaven be thanked that made us friends;
Men prate of wealth in empty words, I
Sit here content as '90 ends.
And sip my grog, and smoke my bird's-eye.

* * * * *

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