Today, January 20, is the eve of St. Agnes. That’s the important occurrence today; forget about anything else, (except MLK, of course).
The Eve Of St. Agnes is also the amazing, 42 stanza poem by John Keats that deserves an annual reading. A tale of star-crossed lovers…but with a happy ending. Perhaps the most luxuriant use of words and images in all of English literature.
”St. Agnes' Eve—Ah, bitter chill it was!
The owl, for all his feathers, was a-cold;
The hare limp'd trembling through the frozen grass,
And silent was the flock in woolly fold…”