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.

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.

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.

Being holiday, the beggar's shop is shut.

Being holiday, the beggar's shop is shut.

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.

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.

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.