It tipped the bough of an old oak tree
With its joyous ray, and in their glee
A myriad host that were slumb’ring there
Came glancing forth in the morning air.
Then off like a flash it sped away,
And next it touched with a diamond ray
A lofty spire, as it rose upon high,
Till it looked like a star in an azure sky.
Again it flew, and this joyous beam
Flashed o’er the breast of a rippling stream;