‸
Those Annual Bills.
Air—Those Evening Bells.
‸By Mark Twain.‸
‸
Those annual bills! those annual bills!
ghost discord trills
How many a song their warning thrills
fills tells swells
Of ‸“truck”‸ consumed, enjoyed, forgot
Since New Year last
Since I reviewed received
Since I was floored, strapped, fell under,
skinned, scalped, flayed by last year’s
lot!
Those joyous beans are past away
Those hams
Those onions blithe, O where are they?
Once loved, lost, mourned—now vexing
ills
shades troop back
Your ghosts return in annual bills
aground cleaned
And so will be when I am broke;
ose yearly duns will still go around
While bards than I more frantic still
While other bards shall with frantic quills
Shall damn & damn these annual bills!
‸Hartford, Jan. 7/74 1
‸My Dear Fields:‸
‸I send this original rought draft just as it was when I laid the pen down to welcome you two hours ago. If you had only opened my cheque-book (which lay under the MS.,) you would have found New-Year inspiration there for even a more gifted poem than this one is. I‸
‸J. T. Fields,
148 Charles st.
Boston.‸
‸I am glad to send this to you, since youare were complimentary enough to ask it.‸
‸Ys Ever‸
Samℓ. L. Clemens.‸ 2
Explanatory Notes | Textual Commentary
Before sending the manuscript draft of “Those Annual Bills” to Fields, Clemens had
evidently made himself a fair copy. He later revised it slightly and published it in Sketches, New and
Old, paired with the Thomas Moore poem it parodied (SLC 1875,
62): A COUPLE OF POEMS BY TWAIN AND MOORE. ———— THOSE EVENING BELLS. ————
by thomas moore.
————
Those evening bells! those evening bells! How many a tale their music tells Of youth, and home, and that sweet time When last I heard their soothing chime. Those joyous hours are passed away; And many a heart that then was gay, Within the tomb now darkly dwells, And hears no more those evening bells. And so ’twill be when I am gone— That tuneful peal will still ring on; While other bards shall walk these dells, And sing your praise, sweet evening bells. ———— THOSE ANNUAL BILLS ————
by mark twain.
————
These annual bills! these annual bills! How many a song their discord trills Of “truck” consumed, enjoyed, forgot, Since I was skinned by last year’s lot! Those joyous beans are passed away; Those onions blithe, O where are they! Once loved, lost, mourned—now vexing ills
Your shades troop back in annual bills! And so ’twill be when I’m aground— These yearly duns will still go round, While other bards, with frantic quills, Shall damn and damn these annual bills!
Source text(s):
Previous publication:
L6, 341–43; Howe, 248–49, MS facsimile.
Provenance:See Huntington Library in Description of Provenance.
Emendations and textual notes:
annual • [‘nn’ miswritten; also at 341.29]