A DECEMBER DAY

By Robert Fuller Murray

Blue, blue is the sea to-day,

Warmly the light

Sleeps on St. Andrews Bay —

Blue, fringed with white.

That's no December sky!

Surely‘ tis June

Holds now her state on high,

Queen of the noon.

Only the tree-tops bare

Crowning the hill,

Clear-cut in perfect air,

Warn us that still

Winter, the aged chief,

Mighty in power,

Exiles the tender leaf,

Exiles the flower.

Is there a heart to-day,

A heart that grieves

For flowers that fade away,

For fallen leaves?

Oh, not in leaves or flowers

Endures the charm

That clothes those naked towers

With love-light warm.

O dear St. Andrews Bay,

Winter or Spring

Gives not nor takes away

Memories that cling

All round thy girdling reefs,

That walk thy shore,

Memories of joys and griefs

Ours evermore.