January
Sunday	Monday	Tuesday	Wednesday	Thursday	Friday	Saturday
			1New Year's Day	2	3	4
5	6	7	8	9	10	11
12	13	14	15	16	17	18
19	20	21	22	23	24	25
26	27	28	29	30	31

January
Sing on, sweet thrush, upon the leafless bough,
Sing on, sweet bird, I listen to thy strain;
See aged Winter, 'mid his surly reign,
At they blithe carol clears his furrowed brow.
So in lone Poverty's dominion drear,
Sits meek Content, with light unanxious heart,
Welcoms the rapid moments, bids them part,
Nor asks if they bring ought to hope or fear.
I thank thee, Author of this opening day!
Thou whose bright sun now gilds yon orient skies!
Riches denied, thy boon was purer joys,
What wealth could never give nor take away!
Yet come, thou child of poverty and care!
The mite high Heaven bestowed, that mite with thee I'll share.
- Sonnet
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January 1
That merry day the year begins,
They bar the door on frosty winds;
The nappy reeks wi' mantling ream,
An' sheds a heart-inspiring steam;
The lu