God Almighty first planted a garden, and indeed it is the purest 

 of all human pleasures*** 



BACON. 



JANUARY 



The bells have told the birthday of the year, 



In notes which speak of lengthening days' return ; 



Of warmer hours to hearts that for them yearn, 

 The bells have told in silvery voices clear. 

 Come thou, sweet spirit of the vernal Spring, 



With visions of fair fields with flowers bedight ; 



Ear-haunting melodies that thrill the light, 

 Filling with joy the heart of everything. 

 Bring visions of the earth with winter past, 



When upward gaze a million flower-eyes, 



And silver Spring hastes to the golden arms 

 Of Summer. Clear Spring-days that change at last 

 From heaven of empty blue to grey-starred skies, 



When eve's hand rocks day's cradle with low psalms 



