Kentucky Gazette

Moore may sing of "Delia's eye,"
Her honied kiss and "thrilling breast;"
And paint her charms on "azure sky;"
And tell how often he hath prest
Her lovely form in beauty's bower,
And whiled away the happy hour:
But oh! his song can ne're beget
Emotions like this "lock of Jet."
And had he even Otway's skill,
Or Byron's muse, or Campbell's lyre;
Or Croaker's harp, or Dryden's quill;
Or Robert Burns' extatic fire:
Long might he write, and write in vain,
For vague and stale would be his strain
No charms for me would he beget,
Unless he sung this Lock of Jet.
For me this little lock of hair,
When I behold it, brings anew
The memory of dear Blue-eyed Sue.
And never shall my heart forget
Her many charms and goodness rare,
While stays with me this lock of jet-
This all enchanting lock of hair
Soon o'er the western wave I sail,
Toss'd by rude waves and pitiless gale
And as I walk the creaking deck,
Or by the helm may keep my stand;
My soul shall then on thee reflect,
And on thy virtues pure and bland.
And as I look me towards the shore,
To which my heart forever bound:
But which I leave to view no more:
(This lock of Jet shall then be found,
Twist'd round this sad, this bleeding heart,
And never, never will we part.
EDGAR.