January.
114
We have cursed you for a termagant, we've sworn you are a shrew,
And yet, believe me, January, we have loved you too.
For you've given us feasts of colour when at evening you undressed
And threw your rose and saffron robes across the tidy west,
And I've seen your diamonds glitter on many a sultry night
And I knew the moon was leagued with you, so glorious was her light,
And the orchards knew your coming, and a luscious blush was born
Upon a million velvet cheeks to greet you every morn,
And you scatter gold about you—for in spite of all, I ween,
You come of ancient lineage mid are every inch a queen,
So try and prune your passions, and bind this golden rule
For crown about your regal brow, oh! January! Keep cool.
And yet, believe me, January, we have loved you too.
For you've given us feasts of colour when at evening you undressed
And threw your rose and saffron robes across the tidy west,
And I've seen your diamonds glitter on many a sultry night
And I knew the moon was leagued with you, so glorious was her light,
And the orchards knew your coming, and a luscious blush was born
Upon a million velvet cheeks to greet you every morn,
And you scatter gold about you—for in spite of all, I ween,
You come of ancient lineage mid are every inch a queen,
So try and prune your passions, and bind this golden rule
For crown about your regal brow, oh! January! Keep cool.
