Public Domain Poetry And Stories - A Year's Carols by Algernon Charles Swinburne
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A Year's Carols

    By Algernon Charles Swinburne



JANUARY
    Hail, January, that bearest here
    On snowbright breasts the babe-faced year
    That weeps and trembles to be born.
    Hail, maid and mother, strong and bright,
    Hooded and cloaked and shod with white,
    Whose eyes are stars that match the morn.
    Thy forehead braves the storm's bent bow,
    Thy feet enkindle stars of snow.

FEBRUARY
    Wan February with weeping cheer,
    Whose cold hand guides the youngling year
    Down misty roads of mire and rime,
    Before thy pale and fitful face
    The shrill wind shifts the clouds apace
    Through skies the morning scarce may climb.
    Thine eyes are thick with heavy tears,
    But lit with hopes that light the year's.

MARCH
    Hail, happy March, whose foot on earth
    Rings as the blast of martial mirth
    When trumpets fire men's hearts for fray.
    No race of wild things winged or finned
    May match the might that wings thy wind
    Through air and sea, through scud and spray.
    Strong joy and thou were powers twin-born
    Of tempest and the towering morn.

APRIL
    Crowned April, king whose kiss bade earth
    Bring forth to time her lordliest birth
    When Shakespeare from thy lips drew breath
    And laughed to hold in one soft hand
    A spell that bade the world's wheel stand,
    And power on life, and power on death,
    With quiring suns and sunbright showers
    Praise him, the flower of all thy flowers.

MAY
    Hail, May, whose bark puts forth full-sailed
    For summer; May, whom Chaucer hailed
    With all his happy might of heart,
    And gave thy rosebright daisy-tips
    Strange fragrance from his amorous lips
    That still thine own breath seems to part
    And sweeten till each word they say
    Is even a flower of flowering May.

JUNE
    Strong June, superb, serene, elate
    With conscience of thy sovereign state
    Untouched of thunder, though the storm
    Scathe here and there thy shuddering skies
    And bid its lightning cross thine eyes
    With fire, thy golden hours inform
    Earth and the souls of men with life
    That brings forth peace from shining strife.

JULY
    Hail, proud July, whose fervent mouth
    Bids even be morn and north be south
    By grace and gospel of thy word,
    Whence all the splendour of the sea
    Lies breathless with delight in thee
    And marvel at the music heard
    From the ardent silent lips of noon
    And midnight's rapturous plenilune.

AUGUST
    Great August, lord of golden lands,
    Whose lordly joy through seas and strands
    And all the red-ripe heart of earth
    Strikes passion deep as life, and stills
    The folded vales and folding hills
    With gladness too divine for mirth,
    The gracious glories of thine eyes
    Make night a noon where darkness dies.

SEPTEMBER
    Hail, kind September, friend whose grace
    Renews the bland year's bounteous face
    With largess given of corn and wine
    Through many a land that laughs with love
    Of thee and all the heaven above,
    More fruitful found than all save thine
    Whose skies fulfil with strenuous cheer
    The fervent fields that knew thee near.

OCTOBER
    October of the tawny crown,
    Whose heavy-laden hands drop down
    Blessing, the bounties of thy breath
    And mildness of thy mellowing might
    Fill earth and heaven with love and light
    Too sweet for fear to dream of death
    Or memory, while thy joy lives yet,
    To know what joy would fain forget.

NOVEMBER
    Hail, soft November, though thy pale
    Sad smile rebuke the words that hail
    Thy sorrow with no sorrowing words
    Or gratulate thy grief with song
    Less bitter than the winds that wrong
    Thy withering woodlands, where the birds
    Keep hardly heart to sing or see
    How fair thy faint wan face may be.

DECEMBER
    December, thou whose hallowing hands
    On shuddering seas and hardening lands
    Set as a sacramental sign
    The seal of Christmas felt on earth
    As witness toward a new year's birth
    Whose promise makes thy death divine,
    The crowning joy that comes of thee
    Makes glad all grief on land or sea.



Extra Info:
From "Astrophel and Other Poems" - 1904


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