December, the quiet keeper of starlight, maiden of the moon, soothes the still breath of the sighing night. Gently she lulls her winter charge, "Sleep, sleep o earthen dreamer, 'til the coming spring shall wake thee".
"The winter comes; I walk alone,
I want no bird to sing;
To those who keep their hearts their own
The winter is the spring."
Last Week's Thursday Thrill: