Of a king dethroned, or a murdered host;
But I can tell of a heart once sad,
By my crystal drops made light and glad;
Of thirsts I’ve quenched, and brows I’ve laved;
Of hands I have cooled, and souls I have saved;
I have slept in the sunshine and dropped from the sky,
And everywhere gladdened the landscape and eye;
I have eased the hot forehead of fever and pain,
I have made the parched meadows grow fertile with grain;
I can tell of the powerful wheel of the mill,