The year's at the spring,
 And day's at the morn;
 Morning's at seven;
 The hill-side's dew-pearled;
 The lark's on the wing;
 The snail's on the thorn;
 God's in his Heaven -
 All's right with the world!

Another of Browning’s simple but beautiful lyrics. The language is uncomplicated, simple descriptive statements unadorned by comparison and unveiled in allusion, yet dense with imagery and wonderfully evocative. Browning had a marvellous facility for turning cliched images into poetry, and for finding what is unmistakably the right way to phrase them - as witnessed by the way this little fragment has enriched the language.

See also the somewhat similar ‘Home Thoughts from Abroad’, poem #65