Of all the months that compose the year,
From January chill, to December drear,
Commend us to November;
For, sure as its period comes around,
Good fellows are over the wine-cup found,—
'Twas so since we remember.
Let April boast of its sunny showers,
Let May exult in its gay young flowers,
And June in its heat and its light;
This, this is the month to surpass them all,