YE swallows, through this heavy day,
That near earth's surface prey and play,
With active wing so swift and free,
How would ye mourn if ye should be
Bound to perpetual rest, like me?

Ye'd break your hearts no more to follow
Your wayward fancies through the air,
And changes at will to here and there;
And so should I, were I a swallow.

But I, immortal, scorn at pain,
All things enjoyable enjoy;
And smiling at the body's chain,
Await till death earth's woe destroy.

Meanwhile earth's joys are freely given,
The prayed-for gifts, content and peace,
come down like angel shapes from heaven;
Enough till prayers and wishes cease.