John Payne

THE roofs are dreary with the drifted rime
And in the air a stillness as of death
Th'approach of some portentousness foresaith.
...

MARCH comes at last, the labouring lands to free.
Rude blusterer, with thy cloud-compelling blast,
The pining plains from cark of Winter past
...

THE wild bird carolled all the April night,
Among the leafing limes, as who should say,
'Lovers, have heed; here cometh in your May,
...

THE tale of wake is told; the stage is bare,
The curtain falls upon the ended play;
November's fogs arise, to hide away
...

OCTOBER, May of the descending days,
Mid-Spring of Autumn, on the shortening stair
Of the year's eld abiding still and fair,
...

HOW is the world of Summer's splendours shorn!
The rose has had its day; from weald and wold
Past is the blossom-pomp, the harvest-gold;
...

I
BETWEEN the night-end and the break of day
An hour there is that from the thither shore
Of the dark river its enchantments frore
...

Alack! ah who could the ill Christian be
That stole my pot away,
My pot of basil of Salern, from me?
'Twas thriv'n with many a spray
...

A lark in the mesh of the tangled vine,
A bee that drowns in the flower-cup's wine,
A fly in the sunshine - such is man.
...

NOT seldom, whilst the Winter yet is king,
Whilst yet the meads are mute and boughs are bare,
A stirring in the February air
...

HOW long, o Lord, how long the Winter's woes?
Is it to purge the world of sin and stain
That in its winding-sheet it stands again
...

THIS is the bitter birth-month of the year.
The sun looms large against the leaden sky,
Rayless and red, as 'twere a giant's eye,
...

THE meadows slumber in the golden shine;
Full-mirrored in the river's glass serene,
Stirless, the blue sky sleeps; knee-deep in green,
...

THE empress of the year, the meadows' queen,
Back from the East, with all her goodly train,
Is come, to glorify the world again
...

SWEET April, with thy mingling tears and smiles,
Dear maid-child of the changing months that art,
...

AUGUST, thou monarch of the mellow noon,
That with thy sceptre smit'st the teeming plain
And gladd'nest all the world with golden grain,
...