Scarce touching earth, the lively sweep of air Lifts me and draws me forth into the fields. Why, what a merry wand the morning wields, Dimpling the world to laughter everywhere! Fresh from her darkling still, a cordial rare The generous outpouring ether yields; See how the careful woodland softly shields From such excess the ferns that nestle there! The cool, sweet calm rebukes the noise of men; The common happiness, their partial bliss; There's not a tree in yonder radiant glen, No, not a leaf, that dreams of aught amiss. I think in heaven, from dawn till dawn again, The sturdy, vital days are all like this. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DOMESDAY BOOK: THE JURY DELIBERATES by EDGAR LEE MASTERS HOW WE BURNED THE 'PHILADELPHIA' by BARRETT EASTMAN THE BEAUTIFUL LAND OF NOD by ELLA WHEELER WILCOX THE APOLOGY OF THE BISHOPS IN ANSWER TO BONNER'S GHOST by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD |