March’s Poem from the English Magazine

The Months

Adapted from a poem by Sarah Coleridge (1802-1852)

January brings the snow,
Makes your nose and fingers glow.

February brings the rain,
Thaws the frozen lake again.

March brings the wind so cold and chill,
Drives the cattle from the hill.

April brings us sun and showers,
And the pretty wildwood flowers.

May brings grass and leafy trees,
Waving in each gentle breeze.

June brings tulips, lilies, roses,
Fills the children’s hands with posies.

July brings the greatest heat,
Cloudless skies and dusty street.

August brings the golden grain,
Harvest time is here again.

Warm September brings the fruit,
Sportsmen then begin the shoot.

Brown October brings the last;
Of ripening gifts from summer past.

Dull November brings the blast,
Then the leaves are falling fast.

Cold December brings the sleet,
Blazing fire, and Christmas treat”

Sara was the fourth child and only daughter of the poet Samuel Taylor Coleridge. She grew up in the Lake district with an extended family that included her uncle, Robert Southey, and her aunt Lovell, widow of the poet Robert Lovell. The Wordsworths were her neighbours. No wonder she wrote poetry.
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