Vintage verse – Holidays by 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 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.

by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807–1882)

Photo by Christine Klocek-Lim

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.