O Month When They Who Love Must

Who Waits Until The Wind Shall Silent Keep Will Never Find The Ready Hour To Sow.

Like A Blind Spinner In The Sun,i Tread My Days:i Know That All The Threads Will Runappointed Ways.i Know Each Day Will Bring Its Task,and Being Blind No More I Ask.

The Voice Of One Who Goes Before, To Makethe Paths Of June More Beautiful, Is Thinesweet May!

Still Lie The Sheltering Snows, Undimmed And White; And Reigns The Winter's Pregnant Silence Still; No Sign Of Spring, Save That The Catkins Fill, And Willow Stems Grow Daily Red And Bright. These Are Days When Ancients Held A Rite Of Expiation For The Old Year's Ill, And Prayer To Purify The New Year's Will.

By All These Lovely Tokens September Days Are Here, With Summer's Best Of Weather And Autumn's Best Of Cheer.