The Months
By Sara Coleridge
January brings the snow,
Makes our feet and fingers glow;
February brings the rain,
Thaws the frozen lake again;
March brings breezes loud and shrill,
Stirs the dancing daffodil;
April brings the primrose sweet,
Scatters daisies at our feet;
May brings flocks of pretty lambs,
Skipping by their fleecy dams;
June brings tulips, lilies, roses,
Fills the children’s hands with posies;
Hot July brings cooling showers,
Apricots and gilliflowers;
August brings the sheaves of corn,
Then the harvest home is borne;
Warm September brings the fruit, —
Sportsmen then begin to shoot;
Fresh October brings the pheasant, —
Then to gather nuts is pleasant;
Dull November brings the blast, —
Then the leaves are whirling fast;
Chill December brings the sleet.
Blazing fire, and Christmas treat.
