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A DAY OF SUNSHINE O GIFT of God! O perfect day : Whereon shall no man work, but play ; Whereon it is enough for me, Not to be doing, but to be! Through every fibre of my brain, Through every nerve, through every vein, I feel the electric thrill, the touch Of life, that seems almost too much. I hear the wind among the trees Playing celestial symphonies ; I see the branches downward bent, Like keys of some great instrument. And over me unrolls on high The splendid scenery of the sky, Where through a sapphire sea the sun Sails like a golden galleon. Towards yonder cloud-land in the West, Towards yonder Islands of the Blest, Whose steep sierra far uplifts Its craggy summits white with drifts. Blow, winds ! and waft through all the rooms The snow-flakes of the cherry-blooms ! Blow, winds ! and bend within my reach The fiery blossoms of the peach ! O Life and Love ! O happy throng Of thoughts, whose only speech is song ! O heart of man ! canst thou not be Blithe as the air is, and as free ? by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow 
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