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