Psalms 103:16

Psalms 103:16. For the wind passeth over it, and it is gone; and the place thereof shall know it no more.

The hot winds of the East blow over a meadow, and it is burned up immediately. Even in the South of France, when the Sirocco has blown across from Africa I have seen the fairest flowers look in a short time as if they had been burned with a hot iron, and such are we when pestilence, as we call it, comes. It is but a breath of poisonous wind, and we are soon gone.