To A Young Lady, Miss Jessy Lewars

Thine be the volumes, Jessy fair,
And with them take the poet's prayer;
That fate may in her fairest page,
With every kindliest, best presage,
Of future bliss, enrol thy name:
With native worth, and spotless fame,
And wakeful caution still aware
Of ill - but chief, man's felon snare;

All blameless joys on earth we find,
And all the treasures of the mind
These be thy guardian and reward;
So prays thy faithful friend, the bard.