The silent dawn was misty yet and gray,
And hoary moisture on the mountains lay.
Intent on rural cares, with early haste,
A peasant near a rocky cavern past;
Across his path was rais'd a mossy bed,
O'er that a rich embroidered mantle spread;
This, lifted up, reaveal'd a lovely child,
Which fairer than the rosy morning smil'd:
The wond'ring swain forgot his country cares,
And back to  house the infant bears.