Explore "New Year's Eve" by Robert W. Service on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
It's cruel cold on the waterfront, silent and dark and drear; / Only the black tide weltering, only the hissing snow; / And I, alone, like a storm-tossed wreck, on this night of the glad New Year, / Shuffling along in the icy wind, ghastly and gaunt and slow.
They're playing a tune in McGuffy's saloon, and it's cheery and bright in there / (God! but I'm weak -- since the bitter dawn, and never a bite of food); / I'll just go over and slip inside -- I mustn't give way to despair --