Song of Peasantry at Close of Year

The crickets are in the hall,
And the year is waning fast.
If now to our mirth we fail to fall,
Will its days and months be past.
Yet let us have no excess:
On our ways and means reflect;
Make merry, but wanton waste repress:
Good fellows are circumspect.

The crickets are in the hall,
And the year is hasting on.
If now to our mirth we fail to fall,
Will its days and months be gone.
Yet let us have no excess;
But the future keep in view;
Make merry, but wanton waste repress:
Good fellows are careful too.

The crickets are in the hall,
And at rest is every cart.
If now to our mirth we fail to fall,
Will its days and months depart.
Yet let us have no excess:
First think of the evil day;
Make merry, but wanton waste repress;
Good fellows may then be gay!