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Time for work,--yet take
Much holiday for art's and friendship's sake.
Time for work,--yet take
Much holiday for art's and friendship's sake.
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.
To many people holidays are not voyages of discovery, but a ritual of reassurance.
To many people holidays are not voyages of discovery, but a ritual of reassurance.
Once again, we come to the Holiday Season, a deeply religious time that each of us observes, in his own read more
Once again, we come to the Holiday Season, a deeply religious time that each of us observes, in his own way, by going to the mall of his choice.
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.
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.
Being holiday, the beggar's shop is shut.
Being holiday, the beggar's shop is shut.
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.
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!
