From the damnable shadows of madness
From the corpse-ridden hollow of Weir
Comes a horrible message of gladness
And a ghost-guided poem of cheer
And a gloom-spouting pupil of Poe
Sends the pleasantest wish of the year
May the ghouls of the neighbouring regions
And the cursed necrophagou things
Lay aside their dark habits in legions
For the bliss that Brumalia brings
And may Druids inum'rable bless thee
As they dance on the moor's fairy-rings!
So, Galba, may pleasures attend thee
Through all thy bright glorious days
May the world and the mighty commend thee
And the cosmos resound with they praise
And may all future ages be brilliant
With the light of thine intellect's rays