November
The leaves are sere,
The woods are drear,
The breeze, that erst so merrily did play,
Naught giveth save a melancholy lay;
Yet life’s great lessons do not fail
E’en in November’s gale.
December
List! List! the sleigh bells peal across the snow;
The frost’s sharp arrows touch the earth and lo!
How diamond-bright the stars do scintillate
When Night hath lit her lamps to Heaven’s gate.
To the dim forest’s cloistered arches go,
And seek the holly and the mistletoe;
For soon the bells of Christmas-tide will ring
To hail the Heavenly King!
WHILE APRIL BREEZES BLOW
(A Song for Arbor Day.)
Come, let us plant a tree today—
Forsake your book, forsake your play,
Bring out the spade and hie away
While April breezes blow.
Your life is young, and it should be
As full of vigor as this tree,
As fair, as upright and as free,
While April breezes blow.
Come, let us plant a tree to stand
Both fair and useful in the land,
Supremely tall and nobly grand
A strong and trusty oak.
