This greeting comes to you, alas,
Far far too late for Christmas Day,
But great disaster came to pass:
I caught the ’flu — or anyway
Some bug — the Doctor did not say
Just what it was had caused the bout,
Though he proclaimed without delay:
«There is a lot of it about».
Five days to Christmas, I got up
And hoped (in vain) my cards to write!
But troubles flowed into my cup,
And deadlines came at me, full-flight,
I had to type, both day and night
On every crisis, threat and doubt
That pours on festive joy its blight
(There is a lot ot it about!).
All done at last! I raise a toast:
Good luck to you from head to shoes,
May New Year bring what you wish most,
Good fortune pour from flowing cruse.
Let’s meet and drink some festive booze:
Wine, whisky, champagne, port or stout,
Rum, vodka, gin — whate’er you choose:
There is a lot of it about.
Friend, at this season of good-will,
I raise with Tiny Tim my shout:
«God’s blessing on us all!» For still
There is, praise be, a lot about!