I might just do this

by Instant Noodle

Now Christmas, with its rich repast
Has vanished, and of New Year’s Day
The feast is over, and at last
Is Twelfth Night’s banquet passed away.
Because of having lived too well,
The head and stomach pains attack : Now for the pill of calomel,
And now, then, for the dose of black.
With bitter aloes crown the cup,
Or salts wilh peppermint combine,
Mix the grey powder, and make up
The draught of antirnonial wine.
Now gruel only, all day long,
With toast-and-water, we must touch,
Draw round the fire and sing a song
Of those who ate and drank too much.

(January 1855)