|Hoyt & Roberts, comps. Hoyts New Cyclopedia of Practical Quotations. 1922.|
|Only the sea intoning,|
Only the wainscot-mouse,
Only the wild wind moaning
Over the lonely house.
T. B. AldrichDecember, 1863.
|Wild was the day; the wintry sea|
Moaned sadly on New Englands strand,
When first the thoughtful and the free,
Our fathers, trod the desert land.
BryantThe Twenty-second of December.
|December drops no weak, relenting tear,|
By our fond Summer sympathies ensnared,
Nor from the perfect circle of the year
Can even Winters crystal gems be spared.
C. P. CranchDecember.
|Shout now! The months with loud acclaim,|
Take up the cry and send it forth;
May breathing sweet her Spring perfumes,
November thundering from the North.
With hands upraised, as with one voice,
They join their notes in grand accord;
Hail to December! say they all,
It gave to Earth our Christ the Lord!
J. K. HoytThe Meeting of the Months.
|In a drear-nighted December,|
Too happy, happy brook,
Thy bubblings neer remember
Apollos summer look;
But with a sweet forgetting,
They stay their crystal fretting,
Never, never petting
About the frozen time
|In cold December fragrant chaplets blow,|
And heavy harvests nod beneath the snow.
PopeDunciad. Bk. I. L. 77.
| When we shall hear|
The rain and wind beat dark December, how,
In this our pinching cave, shall we discourse
The freezing hours away?
Cymbeline. Act III. Sc. 3. L. 36.
|The sun that brief December day|
Rose cheerless over hills of gray,
And, darkly circled, gave at noon
A sadder light than waning moon.