Oft roam with basket on her arm,
From hut to cot, from house to farm,
With med'cine all to fill;
While many a needy child displays
Her needlework, which snugly lays
Beneath the physics, while she strays,
Unseen her gifts to share.
It is not I her fame should blaze,
But still my tongue unbid will praise
A life she spends in seeking ways