If all the year were playing holidays,
To sport would be as tedious as to work.
I once wanted to become an atheist, but I gave up - they have no holidays.
How his eyes languish! how his thoughts adore That painted coat, which Joseph never wore! He shows, on holidays, a sacred pin, That touch'd the ruff, that touched Queen Bess' chin.
The holiest of all holidays are those Kept by ourselves in silence and apart, The secret anniversaries of the heart... -Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.
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!
If all the year were playing holidays, To sport would be as tedious as to work; And nothing pleaseth but rare accidents.
How many observe Christ's birthday! How few, his precepts! O! 'tis easier to keep holidays than commandments.