Yes, light-winged labourers! still unwearied range
From flower to flower, your only love of change!
Still be your envied lot, communion rare,
To wreathe contentment round the brow of care!
No nice distinctions, or of rich or great,
Shade the clear sunshine of your peaceful state;
Nor Avarice there unfolds her dragon wing,
Nor racked Ambition feels the scorpion sting;
Your tempered wants an easy wealth dispense,