C.N. Douglas, comp. Forty Thousand Quotations: Prose and Poetical. 1917.

December

In cold December fragrant chaplets blow,
And heavy harvests nod beneath the snow.

Pope.

In a drear-nighted December,
Too happy, happy brook,
Thy bubblings ne’er remember
Apollo’s summer look;
But with a sweet forgetting,
They stay their crystal fretting,
Never, never petting
About the frozen time.

Keats.

December drops no weak, relenting tear,
By our fond Summer sympathies ensnared,
Nor from the perfect circle of the year
Can even Winter’s crystal gems bespared.

C. P. Cranch.

In December ring
Every day the chimes;
Loud the gleemen sing
In the streets their merry rhymes.
Let us by the fire
Ever higher
Sing them till the night expire!

Longfellow.

Shout now! The months with loud acclaim,
Take up the cry and send it forth;
May breathing sweet her Spring perfumes,
November thundering from the North.
With hands upraised, as with one voice,
They join their notes in grand accord;
Hail to December! say they all,
It gave to Earth our Christ the Lord!

J. K. Hoyt.

Contents -BIBLIOGRAPHIC RECORD