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 frarance 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.