December. When icicles hang by the wall, And Dick, the shepherd, blows his nail, And Tom bears logs into the hall, And milk comes frozen home in pail : Tuwhit! tuwhoo! a merry note! SHAKESPEARE. I truly hope a good husband he'll make, When thou art not pleased, beloved, December 2. Longfellow (Song of Hiawatha). Yes, Love, indeed, is light from heaven; Byron (The Giaour). He jests at scars that never felt a wound. Who ever loved, that loved not at first sight? Marlowe. Thou little sceptic! Dost thou still doubt? What I most prize in woman Is her affections, not her intellect ! The intellect is finite, but the affections Longfellow The Spanish Student). Kindness in women, not their beauteous looks, December 5. Shakespeare. Oh! what was love made for, if 'tis not the same Thro' joy, and thro' torment, thro' glory and shame? I know not, I ask not, if guilt's in that heart, I but know that I love thee whatever thou art. Moore. Sweet is my toil when my dear wife is near; December 6. But when she means with frowns to kill Gay. Coventry Patmore. Sometimes my plague, sometimes my darling, Prior. |