The Queen of the Year
When suns are low and nights are long
And winds bring wild alarms,
Through the darkness comes the Queen of the Year
In all her peerless charms,—
December, fair and holly-crowned,
With the Christ-child in her arms.
The maiden months are a stately train,
Veiled in the spotless snow,
Or decked with the bloom of Paradise
What time the roses blow,
Or wreathed with the vine and the yellow wheat
When the noons of harvest glow.
But, oh, the joy of the rolling year,
The queen with peerless charms,
Is she who comes through the waning light
To keep the world from harms,—
December, fair and holly-crowned,
With the Christ-child in her arms.
Edna Dean Proctor.