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 by thy guardian and reward;
So prays thy faithful friend, the bard.
June 26th 1796