Poem by Robert Burns

To a Young Lady, Miss Jessy Lewars, Dumfries, with Books which the Bard Presented her

THINE be the volumes, Jesay 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.

1. There’s News, Lasses
2. Scroggam
3. There’s a Youth in This City
4. The Toast
5. Lines Written at Loudon Manse

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