To meet unshamed, through victory won,
Your starry eyes.
Under these names, January, February, March, April, how much is hid that the eye cannot see! Uncover the months and interpret them. In a low and sweet way our Almanac began to speak as if he were a harp, and as if the spirit of the year like a gentle wind was breathing through it.—Henry Ward Beecher.
January.
Rosaline E. Jones.
Who can love you, January?
You are gruff and ugly—very.