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!
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (2012). “My Complete Poetical Works (Annotated Edition)”, p.857, Jazzybee Verlag