C.N. Douglas, comp. Forty Thousand Quotations: Prose and Poetical. 1917.


  • In cold December fragrant chaplets blow,
  • And heavy harvests nod beneath the snow.
  • Pope.

  • In a drear-nighted December,
  • Too happy, happy brook,
  • Thy bubblings ne’er remember
  • Apollo’s summer look;
  • But with a sweet forgetting,
  • They stay their crystal fretting,
  • Never, never petting
  • About the frozen time.
  • Keats.

  • December drops no weak, relenting tear,
  • By our fond Summer sympathies ensnared,
  • Nor from the perfect circle of the year
  • Can even Winter’s crystal gems bespared.
  • C. P. Cranch.

  • In December ring
  • Every day the chimes;
  • Loud the gleemen sing
  • In the streets their merry rhymes.
  • Let us by the fire
  • Ever higher
  • Sing them till the night expire!
  • Longfellow.

  • Shout now! The months with loud acclaim,
  • Take up the cry and send it forth;
  • May breathing sweet her Spring perfumes,
  • November thundering from the North.
  • With hands upraised, as with one voice,
  • They join their notes in grand accord;
  • Hail to December! say they all,
  • It gave to Earth our Christ the Lord!
  • J. K. Hoyt.