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. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...JACOBITE'S TOAST (TO AN OFFICER IN THE ARMY) by JOHN BYROM SEVEN TIMES THREE [ - LOVE] by JEAN INGELOW ST. JOHN'S, CAMBRIDGE; SONNET by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW PORTRAIT BY A NEIGHBOR by EDNA ST. VINCENT MILLAY ROBINSON CRUSOE by MOTHER GOOSE A LITTLE CHILD'S HYMN; FOR NIGHT AND MORNING by FRANCIS TURNER PALGRAVE |