Good-by, kind year, we walk no more together, And from thy wreath of faded fern and heather TH JANUARY. HERE was never a leaf on bush or tree, The river was dumb and could not speak, For the weaver Winter its shroud had spun ; From his shining feathers shed off the cold sun; As if her veins were sapless and old, And she rose up decrepitly For a last dim look at earth and sea. -James Russell Lowell. JANUS AND JANUARY. JANUS am I; oldest of potentates! Forward I look and backward, and below I count as god of avenues and gates The years that through my portals come and go. I block the roads and drift the fields with snow, I chase the wild-fowl from the frozen fen; My frosts congeal the rivers in their flow, My fires light up the hearths and hearts of men. - Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. THRESHOLD OF THE NEW YEAR. WE JE are standing on the threshold, we are in the opened door, We are treading on a border land we have never trod before; Another year is opening, and another year is gone, We have passed the darkness of the night, we are in the early morn; We have left the fields behind us o'er which we scattered seed; We pass into the future which some of us can read. The corn among the weeds, the stones, the surface mold, Then gather all your vigor, press forward in the fight, - Selected. THE NEW YEAR. ING out, wild bells, to the wild sky, Ring out the old, ring in the new, Ring, happy bells, across the snow; Ring out the grief that saps the mind Ring out a slowly dying cause, And ancient forms of party strife; Ring in the nobler modes of life, With sweeter manners, purer laws. Ring out the want, the care, the sin, The faithless coldness of the times; Ring out, ring out my mournful rhymes, But ring the fuller minstrel in. Ring out false pride in place and blood, Ring in the common love of good. Ring out old shapes of foul disease; Ring out the narrowing lust of gold; Ring out the thousand wars of old, Ring in the thousand years of peace. Ring in the valiant man and free, The larger heart, the kindlier hand; Ring in the Christ that is to be. -Alfred Tennyson. B WINTER. UT winter has yet brighter scenes he boasts Splendors beyond what gorgeous summer knows, Or autumn with its many fruits, and woods All flushed with many hues. Come when the rains Have glazed the snow and clothed the trees with ice, While the slant sun of February pours Into the bowers a flood of light. Approach! The incrusted surface shall upbear thy steps, The glassy floor. All, all is light; But all shall pass away Light without shade. With the next sun. From numberless vast trunks Loosened, the crashing ice shall make a sound Shall close o'er the brown woods as it was wont. -William Cullen Bryant. SKATING. ND in the frosty season, when the sun Was set, and, visible, for many a mile, The cottage-windows through the twilight blazed, I heeded not the summons. Happy time It was indeed for all of us for me I wheeled about, Proud and exulting, like an untired horse That cares not for its home. All shod with steel, We hissed along the polished ice, in games And woodland pleasures, the resounding horn, The pack loud bellowing, and the hunted hare. With the din Meanwhile the precipices rang aloud. Of melancholy, not unnoticed; while the stars Not seldom from the uproar I retired Into a silent bay; or sportively Glanced sideways, leaving the tumultuous throng, Image, that, flying still before me, gleamed Came sweeping through the darkness, spinning still Stopped short; yet still the solitary cliffs. |