And cloudless are the azure skies,
With Health on every Zephyr’s wing.
But ah! in this romantic dell,
Where streams of life for ever flow,
The demons of destruction dwell,
With Vice, the harbinger of woe!
That horrid thirst of other’s gold—
Those hell-born passions pent within,
Corrupt alike the young and old,
For “sin doth always pluck on sin!”—