BIRDS AND ALL NATURE. 



ILLUSTRATED BY COLOR PHOTOGRAPHY. 



VOL. VII. 



JANUARY, 1900. 



No. i 



JANUARY. 



Then came old January, wrapped well Announced by all the trumpets of the 



In many weeds to keep the cold away; sky, 



Yet did he quake and quiver like to Arrives the snow; and, driving o'ejr 

 quell, the fields, 



And blow his nayles to warm them if Seems nowhere to alight; the whited 

 he may; air 



For they were numb'd with holding all Hides hills and woods, the river, and 

 the day the heaven, 



An hatchet keene,with which he felled And veils the farm-house at the gar- 

 wood, den's end. 



And from the trees did lop the need- The sled and traveler stopp'd, the 

 lesse spray; courier's feet 



Upon a huge great earth-pot steane he Delay'd,all friends shut out, the house- 

 stood, mates sit 



From whose wide mouth there flowed Around the radiant fire-place, inclosed 



forth the Romane flood. In a tumultuous privacy of storm 



Spenser. Emerson. 



OLD YEAR AND YOUNG YEAR. 



Said the year that was old: 



" I am cold, I am cold, 



And my breath hurries fast 



On the wild winter blast 



Of this thankless December; 



Ah, who willremember 



As I, shivering, go, 



The warmth and the glow 



That arose like a flame 



When I came, when I came? 



For I brought in my hands, 



From Utopian lands, 



Golden gifts, and the schemes 



That were fairer than dreams. 



Ah, never a king 



Of a twelvemonth, will bring 



Such a splendor of treasure 



Without stint or measure, 



As I brought on that day, 



Triumphant and gay. 



But, alas, and alas, 



Who will think as I pass, 

 I was once gay and bold?" 

 Said the year that was old. 



ii. 



Said the year that was young 

 And his light laughter rung 

 " Come, bid me good cheer, 

 For I bring with me here 

 Such gifts as the earth 

 Never saw till my birth; 

 All the largess of life, 

 Right royally rife 

 With the plans and the schemes 

 Of the world's highest dreams. 

 Then hope's chalice filled up 

 To the brim of the cup, 

 Let us drink to the past, 

 The poor pitiful past," 

 Sang the year that was young, 

 While his light laughter rung. 



Nora Perry. 



