From the Book of Days called "The Beecher" ca. 1886 the title: December
Silent the month advances. There is nothing to destroy, but much to bury. Bury, then, thou snow, that fallest through the still air. Bury all that the year hath known, and let thy brilliant stars, that never shine as they do in they frostiest nights, behold the work! Thou art the month of resurrection, In thee, the Christ came. Every star, that looks down upon thy labor and toil of burial, knows that all things shall come forth gain. Death shall live. Life shall rejoice. It is Life! It is life through the whole year.
Silent the month advances. There is nothing to destroy, but much to bury. Bury, then, thou snow, that fallest through the still air. Bury all that the year hath known, and let thy brilliant stars, that never shine as they do in they frostiest nights, behold the work! Thou art the month of resurrection, In thee, the Christ came. Every star, that looks down upon thy labor and toil of burial, knows that all things shall come forth gain. Death shall live. Life shall rejoice. It is Life! It is life through the whole year.
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