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 out of darkness start
As flames from ashes; swift desires that dart
Like swallows singing down each wind that blows!
White as the gleam of a receding sail,
White as a cloud that floats and fades in air,
White as the whitest lily on a stream,
These tender memories are;–a fairy tale
Of some enchanted land we know not where,
But lovely as a landscape in a dream.

6 thoughts on “Holidays by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

  1. Rob says:

    Ah yes, I love the classics and rhyming poetry still!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. paintdigi says:

    Good posts, beautiful blog.
    Welcome to see my creations:


    1. Ronnie says:

      Thank you, you have interesting content on your site.


      1. paintdigi says:

        You’r welcome friend


  3. Jet Eliot says:

    A lovely holiday post, Ronnie — thanks so much.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Ronnie says:

      Thank you very much Jet. 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

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