To Jessie, sweet Jessie, with beauty so rare;
With a face of such sweetness, so modest a mien,
She’s like morn in its freshness, she moves like a Queen.
You tell me your Sylvia is beautiful quite;
She may be, when Jessie is kept out of sight;
She is not to be mentioned with Jessie, I ween,
Her voice is sweet music, she moves like a Queen.
Then name not your Sylvia with Jessie I pray,
’Tis comparing dark night with the fair light of day;
Sylvia’s movements are clumsy, and awkwardly seen,