Christian Milne

Written during a State of Illness

COME! rosy Health, with smiling face!
Thou chiefest gift to human race--
Tinge with thy glow my pallid cheek,
And brace my limbs, emaciate, weak!
Exhale thy fragrant healing breath--
Remove disease, and banish death,
At least a while, till youth be o'er;
Be thou my guest till near threescore.
But with me oft, blest, cheering Health,
I'd have thee stay (not as by stealth,
Come now and then to gild an hour,
Then leave me months in Sickness pow'r),
Tho' I've nor wealth, nor land, nor rent,
Yet with me lives thy friend Content;
Wouldst thou thy added blessing give,
'Twould then be happiness, to live!
If thou'rt commission'd to withdraw,
And leave me in the tyrant's jaw,
That GOD has robb'd him of his sting,
Shall swell the dirge I latest sing!