The Land of
January brings the snow,
Makes our feet and fingers glows.
February brings the rains,
Thaws the frozen lake again.
March brings breezes sharp and chill,
Shakes the dancing daffodil.
April brings the primrose sweet,
Scatters daisies at our feet.
May brings flocks of pretty lambs,
Sporting round their fleecy dams.
June brings tulips, lilies, rose,
Fills the children’s hands with posies.
Hot July brings thunder-showers,
Apricots, and gilly-flowers.
August brings the sheaves of corn;
hen the harvest home is borne.
Warm September brings the fruit;
Sportsmen then begin to shoot.
Brown October brings the pheasant,
Then to gather nuts is pleasant.
Dull November brings the blast,
Hark! the leaves are whirling fast.
Cold December brings the sleet,
Blazing fire, and Christmas treat.
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