A December Day

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.