And that was the way
The deuce was to pay
As it always is, at the close read more

And that was the way
The deuce was to pay
As it always is, at the close of the day
That gave us--
Hurray! Hurray! Hurray!
(With some restrictions, the fault-finders say)
That which, please God, we will keep for aye
Our National Independence!

The second day of July, 1776, will be the most memorable epoch in
the history of America. I am read more

The second day of July, 1776, will be the most memorable epoch in
the history of America. I am apt to believe that it will be
celebrated by succeeding generations as the great anniversary
festival. It ought to be commemorated as the day of deliverance,
by solemn acts of devotion to God Almighty. It ought to be
solemnized with pomp and parade, with shows, games, sports, guns,
bells, bonfires, and illuminations, from one end of the continent
to the other, from this time forward forevermore.

The holiest of all holidays are those
Kept by ourselves in silence and apart;
The secret anniversaries read more

The holiest of all holidays are those
Kept by ourselves in silence and apart;
The secret anniversaries of the heart,
When the full river of feeling overflows;--
The happy days unclouded to their close;
The sudden joys that our of darkness start
As flames from ashes; swift desires that dart
Like swallows singing down each wind that blows!

Come, woo me, woo me; for now I am in holiday humor and like
enough to consent.

Come, woo me, woo me; for now I am in holiday humor and like
enough to consent.

There were his young barbarians all at play
There was their Dacian mother--he, their sire,
Butcher'd to read more

There were his young barbarians all at play
There was their Dacian mother--he, their sire,
Butcher'd to make a Roman holiday.

If you want to visit Paris, the best time to go is during August, when there aren't any French people read more

If you want to visit Paris, the best time to go is during August, when there aren't any French people there

You sunburnt sicklemen, of August weary,
Come hither from the furrow and be merry.
Make holiday: your read more

You sunburnt sicklemen, of August weary,
Come hither from the furrow and be merry.
Make holiday: your rye-straw hats put on,
And these fresh nymphs encounter every one
In country footing.

Being holiday, the beggar's shop is shut.

Being holiday, the beggar's shop is shut.

If all the year were playing holidays,
To sport would be as tedious as to work;
And read more

If all the year were playing holidays,
To sport would be as tedious as to work;
And nothing pleaseth but rare accidents.