THROUGH wet and dry, and frost and snows,
With fingers numb'd and aching toes,
I ride to please with heart sincere,
And wish you all a happy Year.

Each Wednesday morn, as soon as light,
I mount my horse and ride 'til night,
To bring you news from ev'ry quarter,
That happens on the land or water.

Though Boras blows with savage rages
Or clouds contending fierce xx ages
I dauntless push through wet and dry,
And at your doors "Here's News" I cry;
In hopes of a small recompence
For serving you with diligence;
Though small the gift at the New Year,
Will help me thro' with greater cheer.

May commerce, trade, and arts increase,
Wars and contentions ever cease;
The God of Peace grant you success,
And all your virt'ous doings bless.