| Thomas R. Lounsbury, ed. (1838–1915). Yale Book of American Verse. 1912. |
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| Edward Coate Pinkney. 1802–1828 |
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| 34. A Health |
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| I FILL this cup to one made up of loveliness alone, | |
| A woman, of her gentle sex the seeming paragon; | |
| To whom the better elements and kindly stars have given | |
| A form so fair, that, like the air, 't is less of earth than heaven. | |
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| Her every tone is music's own, like those of morning birds, | 5 |
| And something more than melody dwells ever in her words; | |
| The coinage of her heart are they, and from her lips each flows | |
| As one may see the burthened bee forth issue from the rose. | |
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| Affections are as thoughts to her, the measures of her hours; | |
| Her feelings have the fragrancy, the freshness, of young flowers; | 10 |
| And lovely passions, changing oft, so fill her, she appears | |
| The image of themselves by turns,—the idol of past years! | |
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| Of her bright face one glance will trace a picture on the brain, | |
| And of her voice in echoing hearts a sound must long remain; | |
| But memory such as mine of her so very much endears, | 15 |
| When death is nigh my latest sigh will not be life's but hers. | |
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| I filled this cup to one made up of loveliness alone, | |
| A woman, of her gentle sex the seeming paragon— | |
| Her health! and would on earth there stood some more of such a frame, | |
| That life might be all poetry, and weariness a name. | 20 |
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