And fanning the cheek of each laughing boy,
With his cooling wing, waved the downy toy
Their bright heads above, and the careless band,
With eager eye, and with outstretched hand,
Ran away, in chase of the silvery thing
That the Zephyr bore on exulting wing.
Now slowly it floated their hands beneath—
Now upward it sprang on a stronger breath—
Now wafted afar—’twas a merry race
The Zephyr to lead, and the children in chase!