SUNSHINE

I love the sunshine everywhere,

In wood, and field, and geln;

I love it in the busy haunts

Of town-imprisoned men.

I love it when it streameth in

The humble cottage door

And casts the checkered casement shade

Upon the red-brick floor.

I love it where the children lie

Deep in the clovery grass

To watch among the twining roots

The gold-green beetles pass.

 

I love it on the breezy sea,

To glance on sail and oar,

While the great waves, like molten glass,

Come leaping to the shore.

I love it on the mountain-tops,

Where lies the thawless snow,

And half a kingdom, bathed in light,

Lies stretching out below

And when it shines in forests-glades,

Hidden, and green, and cool,

Through messy boughs and veined leaves,

How is it beautiful,

How beautiful on little stream,

When sun and shade at play,

Make silvery meshes, while the brook

Goes singing on its way.

How beautiful, where dragon-flies

Are wondrous to behold,

With rainbow wings of gauzy pearl,

And bodies blue and gold.

 

 

How beautiful, on harvest slopes,

To see the sunshines lie;

Or on the paler reaped fields,

Where yellow shocks stand high;

Oh, yes; I love the sunshine,

Like kindness or like mirth

Upon a human countenance,

Is sunshine on the earth

Upon the earth; upon the sea;

And through crystal air,

Or piled-up cloud; the gracious sun

Is glorious everywhere.