So little cause for carolings     Of such ecstatic soundWas written on terrestrial things     Afar or nigh around,That I could think there trembled through     His happy good-night airSome blessed Hope, whereof he knew     And I was unaware.
There is little reason for singing happy songs.
I know why he is happy and hopeful.
A man is foggy as he tries to remember the names of graduates on stage.
We let ourselves out of the yard.
The child is sitting in a field of wheat.
The baker is running a marathon.
A man is sleeping in his bed
The child is sleep outside.