Dreary, Dreary, The Year Of The Martyrology, Poem by Emmanuel George Cefai

Dreary, dreary, the year of the martyrology,
I will see auctioned property by property,
I will see the debauched past year rise
Its head and smile
Sardonic and mysterious like the Sphinx
With a querying look of mischievousness
Like the old Sibyl that ages not:
But re-incarnates time after time
Cyclical:
And I trudge, I find I trudge,
The old and weary way to martyrdom
I have not cared to calculate
How many paces (that is days:
One pace per one day) I must make
Nor how many a-panting of the breath to make:
But hist! is this discourse that one says
In the first day of a Year at any rate?