And of all man's felicities The very subtlest one, say I, Is when for the first time he sees His hearthfire smoke against the sky.

Morley’s lines praise a quiet, almost ineffable happiness: the moment a person recognizes “home” as something visible in the world, marked by the humble sign of smoke rising from one’s own hearth. The “subtlest” felicity is not triumph or pleasure but belonging—an inward assurance made outward by a domestic image. The diction (“say I”) gives the stanza the tone of a personal credo, suggesting the speaker has learned that contentment often arrives indirectly, through ordinary sights that suddenly carry emotional weight. The image also implies return after absence: seeing one’s own smoke against the sky can be read as the relief of coming back, or of finally establishing a settled life.