Thy quire of birds about thee play,
And all the joyful world salutes the rising day.
“All the world’s bravery, that delights our eyes,
Is but thy sev’ral liveries,
Thou the rich dye on them bestowest,
Thy nimble pencil paints this landscape as thou goest.
“A crimson garment in the Rose thou wear’st;
A crown of studded gold thou bear’st,
The virgin lilies in their white,
Are clad but with the lawn of almost naked light!”