[L]et light Rise from the chambers of the east, and bring The honey'd dew that cometh on waking day. O radiant morning.
William BlakeWhere others see but the dawn coming over the hill, I see the soul of God shouting for joy.
William BlakeThe countless gold of a merry heart, The rubies and pearls of a loving eye, The indolent never can bring to the mart, Nor the secret hoard up in his treasury.
William BlakeSome say that happiness is not good for mortals, & they ought to be answered that sorrow is not fit for immortals & is utterly useless to any one; a blight never does good to a tree, & if a blight kill not a tree but it still bear fruit, let none say that the fruit was in consequence of the blight.
William Blake