_A January Day._

King Winter sleeps. His daughter, Spring, His sceptre steals away, And, laughing, bids fair Nature bring For once a perfect day.

Bright glows the sun in azure skies, And balmy blows the breeze, On gayer wing the sparrow flies, And softly sway the trees.

The seasons run like some great stream That to the ocean flows, The waves that here in sunshine gleam Bound there in mountain snows:

And, as where darkling waters steal, Drear walls of rock between, Yet in their depths a gem reveal That glows with sunny sheen.

So in this blustering month that bears The banner of the year, Such days as this with balmy airs Amid the storms appear.

It is but meet that thy birthday Should open bright and warm, And into darkness fade away Without a cloud or storm.