Henry Livingston Poems
To My Little Niece Anne Duyckinck
To his charming black-eyed niece
Uncle Harry wishest peace!
Wishes roses over strow'd
O'er her sublunary road!
No rude winds around her howl,
O'er her head no tempests scowl;
No red lightnings flash around,
No loud thunders rock the ground!
Bright has been her morning sun,
Brighter still be that to come!
All a blue serene above,
Within, all innocence and love.
The Ix Ode To Horace
While I was pleasing to your arms,
Nor any youth, of happier charms,
Thy snowy bosom blissful prest,
Not Portia's like me was blest.