As the question of what is loveliest encounters, the usual suspects to affect the conscious are beautiful beings: animate and inanimate. A lovely face, lovely child, lovely gift and so forth.
What is loveliest isn’t an elusive question conditional to agreement about properties of exquisite beauty: is it that which appeals to the eye? To the heart? To the mind? Or to the spirit? One especially scarce commodity, i think, stands taller than its few contenders to the title: nature’s beauty can author catharsis far reaching in impact than simple admiration, kindness can endow bliss beyond the giver and the receiver. Good health foreshadows a healthy mind. These are worthy contenders.
A quick aside. Quickly ensuing conclusion of it’s duty toward describing ordinary words, “lovely” metamorphoses into a collosal entity routinely encapsulating space and time into what it describes. If you think about it, there isn’t much left to describe beyond a lovely day and a lovely time (Which begs the question as what is meant when a day is said to be lovely, beyond good weather perhaps, and if that is adequate to make a day lovely).
Back to the original thought. If an object is to be loved on account of savoring and not only of yearning for, then freedom, is plausibly, the loveliest of all. We starve for freedom: of choice, of speech, of belief, from poverty, from slavery and several more hardships. And yet, for the few who enjoy it’s essence, nothing correlates so directly to their meaningful existence as freedom does. Good health, beauty and gratitude might go unappreciated, but freedom is enjoyed even if you refuse to. That’s why it stands tall. That’s why it’s beauty is exquisite. It is lovely.