Page:Poems Jackson.djvu/261

FEBRUARY.

TILL. lie the sheltering snows, undimmed and white;
And reigns the winter's pregnant silence still;
No sign of spring, save that the catkins fill,
And willow stems grow daily red and bright.
These are the days when ancients held a rite
Of expiation for the old year's ill,
And prayer to purify the new year's will:
Fit days, ere yet the spring rains blur the sight,
Ere yet the bounding blood grows hot with haste,
And dreaming thoughts grow heavy with a greed
The ardent summer's joy to have and taste;
Fit days, to give to last year's losses heed,
To reckon clear the new life's sterner need;
Fit days, for Feast of Expiation placed!

MARCH.

ONTH which the warring ancients strangely styled
The month of war,—as if in their fierce ways
Were any month of peace!—in thy rough days
I find no war in Nature, though the wild
Winds clash and cling, and broken boughs are piled