O it is something 
To be taken out of the fuss and strife 
Of the singular mess we agree to call life: 
To be set down on one' s own two feet 
So nigh to the great warm heart of God 
You almost seem to feel it beat 
Down from the sunshine and up from the sod ; 
To be compelled, as it were, to notice 
All the beautiful changes and chances 
Through which the landscape fits and glances ; 
And to see how the face of common day 
Is written all over with tender histories. 
James Russell Lowell 
