THE TOASTFILL me with the rosy wine,
Call a toast, a toast divine:
Giveth me Poets darling flame,
Lovely Jessie be her name;
Then thou mayest freely boast,
Thou hast given a peerless toast.
THE MENAGERIETalk not to me of savages,
From Africs burning sun;
No savage eer could rend my heart,
As Jessie, thou hast done:
But Jessies lovely hand in mine,
A mutual faith to plight,
Not even to view the heavenly choir,
Would be so blest a sight.
JESSIES ILLNESSSay, sages, whats the charm on earth
Can turn Deaths dart aside!
It is not purity and worth,
Else Jessie had not died.
ON HER RECOVERYBut rarely seen since Natures birth,
The natives of the sky;
Yet still one seraphs left on earth,
For Jessie did not die.
