Alastor

Earth, Ocean, Air, belovèd brotherhood!

If our great Mother has imbued my soul

With aught of natural piety to feel

Your love, and recompense the boon with mine;

If dewy morn, and odorous noon, and even,

With sunset and its gorgeous ministers,

And solemn midnight's tingling silentness;

If Autumn's hollow sighs in the sere wood,

And Winter robing with pure snow and crowns

Of starry ice the gray grass and bare boughs; 

If Spring's voluptuous pantings when she breathes

Her first sweet kisses,--have been dear to me;

If no bright bird, insect, or gentle beast

I consciously have injured, but still loved

And cherished these my kindred; then forgive

This boast, belovèd brethren, and withdraw

No portion of your wonted favor now!

 --Shelley's "Alastor, or The Spirit of Solitude"

By the way, the caterpillar survived, and seems to be enjoying the balmy weather we are now experiencing!