By All These Lovely Tokens September Days

No Days Such Honored Days As These! While Yet Fair Aphrodite Reigned, Men Seeking Wide For Some Fair Thing Which Should Forever Bide On Earth, Her Beauteous Memory To Set In Fitting Frame That No Age Could Forget, Her Name In Lovely April's Name Did Hide, And Leave It There, Eternally Allied To All The Fairest Flowers Spring Did Beget.

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

Nothing Can Be So Bad As To Be Displeased With One's Self.

The Woman Who Creates And Sustains A Home, And Under Whose Hands Children Grow Up To Be Strong And Pure Men And Women, Is A Creator Second Only To God.

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.