In fields of old where daffodils do dance,
A joy doth rise, as morning’s light doth prance.
'Midst gleeful sprites, where laughter's echo rings,
Delight unfurls on golden gossamer wings.
The breath of dawn with whispers softly sung,
Awakens bliss in hearts forever young.
Upon the mead, where merry streams do flow,
Contentment blooms like roses in the snow.
The mirth of yore, in verses oft renowned,
By poets past, in sonnets soft, was crowned.
A child’s sweet smile, an elder’s wistful sigh,
Together weave the hues of azure sky.
O happiness, thy guileless grace divine,
In simplest things, thy essence we divine.
To thee, we owe the laughter, love, and cheer,
Thou art the light that banishes all fear.
So let us toast to joyous hearts and free,
In realms where bliss and mirth shall ever be.
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