And virtue for its daughters’ care;
All those belovéd creatures greet,
That still around home’s altar meet.
And when you come unto its shore,
This kiss I now on you bestow,
Fling where the winged breezes blow;
That borne on them it may hover o’er
All that I love, esteem, and adore.
But though, O flowers, you come unto that land,
And still perchance your colors hold;