Caprices of the Gods

U NSEASONABLE July,
Pettish and rude and bleak —
Thou'rt Summer to the eye,
But Winter to the cheek.

Was Nature wise to vary
The order we held dear,
Turn revolutionary,
And bolshevize the year?

Oh, let her sing and play
Her carmagnolish tune —
But make December pay
The debts of bankrupt June!
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