[The
constancy
of her attendance on the poet's sick-bed and anxiety of
mind brought a slight illness upon Jessy Lewars.
mind brought a slight illness upon Jessy Lewars.
Robert Burns
alas!
a devilish change indeed.
* * * * *
LXVIII.
JESSY LEWARS.
[Written on the blank side of a list of wild beasts, exhibiting in
Dumfries. "Now," said the poet, who was then very ill, "it is fit to
be presented to a lady. "]
Talk not to me of savages
From Afric's burning sun,
No savage e'er could rend my heart
As, Jessy, thou hast done.
But Jessy's lovely hand in mine,
A mutual faith to plight,
Not even to view the heavenly choir
Would be so blest a sight.
* * * * *
LXIX.
THE TOAST.
[One day, when Burns was ill and seemed in slumber, he observed Jessy
Lewars moving about the house with a light step lest she should
disturb him. He took a crystal goblet containing wine-and-water for
moistening his lips, wrote these words upon it with a diamond, and
presented it to her. ]
Fill me with the rosy-wine,
Call a toast--a toast divine;
Give the Poet's darling flame,
Lovely Jessy be the name;
Then thou mayest freely boast,
Thou hast given a peerless toast.
* * * * *
LXX.
ON MISS JESSY LEWARS.
[The constancy of her attendance on the poet's sick-bed and anxiety of
mind brought a slight illness upon Jessy Lewars. "You must not die
yet," said the poet: "give me that goblet, and I shall prepare you for
the worst. " He traced these lines with his diamond, and said, "That
will be a companion to 'The Toast. '"]
Say, sages, what's the charm on earth
Can turn Death's dart aside?
It is not purity and worth,
Else Jessy had not died.
R. B.
* * * * *
LXXI.
ON THE
RECOVERY OF JESSY LEWARS.
[A little repose brought health to the young lady. "I knew you would
not die," observed the poet, with a smile: "there is a poetic reason
for your recovery;" he wrote, and with a feeble hand, the following
lines. ]
But rarely seen since Nature's birth,
The natives of the sky;
Yet still one seraph's left on earth,
For Jessy did not die.
R. B.
* * * * *
LXXII.
TAM, THE CHAPMAN.
* * * * *
LXVIII.
JESSY LEWARS.
[Written on the blank side of a list of wild beasts, exhibiting in
Dumfries. "Now," said the poet, who was then very ill, "it is fit to
be presented to a lady. "]
Talk not to me of savages
From Afric's burning sun,
No savage e'er could rend my heart
As, Jessy, thou hast done.
But Jessy's lovely hand in mine,
A mutual faith to plight,
Not even to view the heavenly choir
Would be so blest a sight.
* * * * *
LXIX.
THE TOAST.
[One day, when Burns was ill and seemed in slumber, he observed Jessy
Lewars moving about the house with a light step lest she should
disturb him. He took a crystal goblet containing wine-and-water for
moistening his lips, wrote these words upon it with a diamond, and
presented it to her. ]
Fill me with the rosy-wine,
Call a toast--a toast divine;
Give the Poet's darling flame,
Lovely Jessy be the name;
Then thou mayest freely boast,
Thou hast given a peerless toast.
* * * * *
LXX.
ON MISS JESSY LEWARS.
[The constancy of her attendance on the poet's sick-bed and anxiety of
mind brought a slight illness upon Jessy Lewars. "You must not die
yet," said the poet: "give me that goblet, and I shall prepare you for
the worst. " He traced these lines with his diamond, and said, "That
will be a companion to 'The Toast. '"]
Say, sages, what's the charm on earth
Can turn Death's dart aside?
It is not purity and worth,
Else Jessy had not died.
R. B.
* * * * *
LXXI.
ON THE
RECOVERY OF JESSY LEWARS.
[A little repose brought health to the young lady. "I knew you would
not die," observed the poet, with a smile: "there is a poetic reason
for your recovery;" he wrote, and with a feeble hand, the following
lines. ]
But rarely seen since Nature's birth,
The natives of the sky;
Yet still one seraph's left on earth,
For Jessy did not die.
R. B.
* * * * *
LXXII.
TAM, THE CHAPMAN.
