The morning blush’d with vivid red,
And night in sudden silence fled;
Sad Philomel no more complains,
The lark begins his sprightly strains;
Light paints the flow’rs of various hue,
And sparkles in the pendent dew;
Life moves o’er all the quicken’d green,
And beauty reigns, unrival’d queen.
Green as the leaf, on which he lay,
A Caterpillar wak’d to-day: