Reference > Quotations > Hoyt & Roberts, comps. > Hoyt’s New Cyclopedia of Practical Quotations
Hoyt & Roberts, comps.  Hoyt’s New Cyclopedia of Practical Quotations.  1922.
  The second day of July, 1776, will be the most memorable epoch in the history of America. I am apt to believe that it will be celebrated by succeeding generations as the great anniversary festival. It ought to be commemorated as the day of deliverance, by solemn acts of devotion to God Almighty. It ought to be solemnized with pomp and parade, with shows, games, sports, guns, bells, bonfires, and illuminations, from one end of this continent to the other, from this time forward forevermore.
        John Adams—Letter to Mrs. Adams. July 3, 1776.
There were his young barbarians all at play
There was their Dacian mother—he, their sire,
Butcher’d to make a Roman holiday.
        Byron—Childe Harold. Canto IV. St. 141.
And that was the way
The deuce was to pay
As it always is, at the close of the day
That gave us—
  Hurray! Hurray! Hurray!
(With some restrictions, the fault-finders say)
That which, please God, we will keep for aye
Our National Independence!
        Will Carleton—How We Kept the Day.
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!
        Longfellow—Holidays. L. 1.
For now I am in a holiday humour.
        As You Like It. Act IV. Sc. 1. L. 69.
If all the year were playing holidays,
To sport would be as tedious as to work.
        Henry IV. Pt. I. Act I. Sc. 2. L. 228.
Being holiday, the beggar’s shop is shut.
        Romeo and Juliet. Act V. Sc. 1. L. 56.
You sunburnt sicklemen, of August weary,
Come hither from the furrow and be merry:
Make holiday; your rye-straw hats put on
And these fresh nymphs encounter every one
In country footing.
        Tempest. Act IV. Sc. 1. L. 134.
        Time for work,—yet take
Much holiday for art’s and friendship’s sake.
        George James de Wilde—Sonnet. On the Arrival of Spring.

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