O'er the broad earth thou wingest; every day
Lighting bright smiles in mansions high and low;
Blessings uncounted strewing in thy way,
Bright'ning the eye, kindling the cheek with glow.
When burning fever mantles o'er the brow,
And dire disease foretells the angel Death,
Welcome is thy refreshing entrance. Now
Gold hath not there the sweetness of thy breath.
With flowers thou lov'st to sport in fondest glee,
Sipping from velvet cups their rich perfume;