Scan the pow’rs I proudly claim.
O’er this globe’s capacious round
With fairy sprightliness I bound;
To ev’ry clime, to ev’ry soil,
With equal hand I give my toil.
O’er sea and land my power extends,
To ev’ry herb my care descends.
Did I withhold my vital breath,
Nature’s forms would sink in death.
When confin’d, or swiftly driven