The marigold, whose courtier's face echoes the sun, and doth unlace her at his rise, at his full stop packs and shuts up her gaudy shop.

Lives in eternity's sun rise.

Knock, Knock."
"Who's there?"
"Olive."
"Olive who?"
"Olive...ooh. I love you, too," he said, figuring it out. "You can tell me that one anytime you like." He folded her into his arms.

Lives in eternity's sun rise.

The sun will not rise or set without my notice, and thanks.

Watching the sun rise over the ocean is making it easy for me to wake up and get out of bed. I'm not jumping up to take a shower or go to work. I'm jumping up to greet the majesty of the day, of God, of me. The majesty reminds me that God's in his heaven ... and so am I. And, heaven is a lovely place to start the day, a lovely place to live.