Why should I keep holiday,
When other men have none?
Why but because when these are gay,
I sit and mourn alone.
And why when mirth unseals all tongues
Should mine alone be dumb?
Ah! late I spoke to silent throngs,
And now their hour is come.
from: Emerson, Ralph Waldo. Early Poems of Ralph Waldo Emerson.
York, Boston, Thomas Y. Crowell & Company: 1899. Introduction by Nathan