Henry Livingston, Jr.
Clement Clark Moore

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'Twas the night before Christmas, when all thro' the house,  
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;  
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,  
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there;  
The children were nestled all snug in their beds, 
While visions of sugar plums danc'd in their heads,  
And Mama in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap, 
Had just settled our brains for a long winter's nap-  
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,  
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.  
Away to the window I flew like a flash,  
Tore open the shutters, and threw up the sash. 
The moon on the breast of the new fallen snow, 
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below; 
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear, 
But a minature sleigh, and eight tiny rein-deer, 
With a little old driver, so lively and quick, 
I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick. 
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came, 
And he whistled, and shouted, and call'd them by name: 
"Now! Dasher, now! Dancer, now! Prancer, and Vixen, 
"On! Comet, on! Cupid, on! Dunder and Blixem; 
"To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall! 
"Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!" 
As dry leaves before the wild hurricane fly, 
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky; 
So up to the house-top the coursers they flew, 
With the sleigh full of Toys - and St. Nicholas too: 
And then in a twinkling, I heard on the roof 
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof. 
As I drew in my head, and was turning around, 
Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound: 
He was dress'd all in fur, from his head to his foot, 
And his clothes were all tarnish'd with ashes and soot; 
A bundle of toys was flung on his back, 
And he look'd like a peddler just opening his pack: 
His eyes - how they twinkled! his dimples how merry, 
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry; 
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow, 
And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow; 
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth, 
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath. 
He had a broad face, and a little round belly 
That shook when he laugh'd, like a bowl full of jelly: 
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf, 
And I laugh'd when I saw him in spite of myself; 
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head 
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread. 
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work, 
And fill'd all the stockings; then turn'd with a jirk, 
And laying his finger aside of his nose 
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose. 
He sprung to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle, 
And away they all flew, like the down of a thistle: 
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight- 
Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night. 

Catherine Sleeping
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Sweet Innocent lye still & sleep,
While chearfull seraphs vigils keep,
To ward off ev'ry shaft of death
That may be wing'd to seize thy breath.
Dear Infant how serene you lay,
Nor heed the bustle of the day!
Thy little bosom knows no care,
For guilt neer lay & wrankled there;
In thee all troubles die & cease,
And all is quiet all is peace.
How much unlike thy Father's life
Amid the Din of Arms & strife!
The tumult and the noise of war
Forever thundring in his ear.
Thy mother too has shed her tears
Has heav'd her sigh & known her fears.
Her lips hath not forgot to press
The bitter cup of keen distress.
And Thou sweet Bode will soon perceive
That to be mortal is to greive;
That as the spark will upward fly,
So man still lives to mourn & dye.

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WHEN JESUS bow'd his awful head
And dy'd [t'] avert our fatal doom,
His friends the sacred corpse convey'd,
To the dark region of the tomb.
The Angelic host, with wonder saw,
Their sov'reign leave his bright abode,
To vindicate the righteous law,
Promulged by th Eternal GOD.
They view'd him in the sinner's stead
Obey the precepts man forsook;
While woes unnumbered oer his head,
Like an unbounded ocean broke. 
But when they saw the fatal tree,
And there, the son of GOD expire!
(Unknown the ineffable decree,)
Amazement fill'd the heav'nly choir.
And the dejected friendless train,
Who fondly dream't of empire here;
Now mourn'd each expectation vain,
And every hope dissolv'd in air.
Their foes exult. And scoffing cry,
"And is your boasted leader gone?"
"His pow'r! The power but to die?"
"His kingdom! but a narrow tomb?"
Let earth rejoice, let heav'n resound!
Behold the conquering MONARCH rise!
From the dark mansion under ground,
To the bright empire of the skies! 
Resplendant, now each promise shines;
Divinely bright each varying scene.
The great TRANSACTION how sublime!
And LOVE how infinite! to men.
The Angels bow before their KING;
But never hail'd a SAVIOR'S name;
Tis Man, can a REDEEMER sing;
And dying love exalts his theme. 

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'TWAS night. And thickest gloom prevail'd around.
When watchfull on his solitary bed,
The eastern sage, deep-musing laid,
While all the world beside was in soft slumbers drown'd.
Unusual tremors seiz'd his aged frame!
Cold ran the circulating fluid thro each vein!
Speechless he lay. when lo! before his eyes,
A spectre far more hideous to behold,
Than ee'r was fiction'd in the tales of old
All form'd for horror, solemnly did rise.
Silence was there. nor moved there ought around:
When thus the vision spake and shook the deep profound.
"Shall mortal man tho made of dust,"
"Lift up his pigmy face"
"And tell the author of his race"
"He's free from moral taint, and absolutely Just"! 
"The Angels in the brightest skies"
"Have faults in his all-searching eyes"
"And the high-vaulted empyrean"
"'Fore uncreated ESSENCE is unclean."

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The winter all surly is flown,
The frost, and the ice, and the snow:
The violets already have blown,
Already the daffodils glow.
The forests and copses around,
Their foilage begin to display;
The copses and forests resound
With the music and disport of May.
E'er Phoebus has gladded the plains,
E'er? the mountains are tip'd with his gold.
The sky larks shrill matin proclaims,
A songster, harmonius as bold.
The Linnet, and Thrush, thro the day,
Join notes with the soft cooing dove;
Not a bush, but can witness a lay;
Or the softer endearments of Love. 
At eve, when the shadows prevail;
And night throws her mantle around;
The nightingale warbles her tale
And harmony dwells in the sound.
The grasshopper chirps at our feet,
The butterfly wings it along,
The season of love will compleat
What they want in the raptures of song.
Not an insect that flits o'er the lawn
But gambols in pleasure and play,
Rejoicing the winter is gone,
And hailing the pleasanter May.
Let us join in their revels my dear!
To innocent joy give a loose!
No surfeits or harm can we fear
The pleasures we cannot abuse.
What is all the gay town can bestow?
That all its inhabitants share?
But trifles and glitter and show,
That cloy and displease as they glare. 
These snares may entangle the weak;
But never the rational soul;
The flimsy enchantments will break
Where reason can never control.
By the side of a murmuring stream,
Where willows the margin imbrown;
We'll wander, unheeded, unseen,
Nor envy the taste of the town.
In scenes, where confusion and noise
And riots loud voice is unknown;
We'll humbly participate joys,
That ever from greatness have flown.
Let avarice smile o'er its gain,
Ambition exult at its height,
Dissipation unloose every rein,
In pursuit of forbidden delight.
We'll cling to our cottage, my love,
There a meeting with bliss we ensure.
The Seraphs who carol above
Must smile on enjoyments so pure.

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Take the name of nine sisters that romp on Parnassus,
With the downy chin'd god belov'd by the lasses:
The flower that ever creates new delight,
And the Bard who so sweetly descants on the night.
The Nymph who deep buried in Woodstock's drear gloom
Met with flambeaux her lover at the blaze of high noon
The muse who first on Aracadia's plain,
Mellifl'ously warbles the heart-thrilling strain.
The town o'er whose walls peer'd the horrible sphynx;
And the bane of old Illium, a beautiful minx.
The city where Dian the huntress presided,
And the rascally palfrey Don Quixote bestrided:
What the soul most employs in her ev'ning vagaries,
With that Monarch renowned, the king of the fairies:
What the Hero expects at the close of his toil;
And -- YOU can confer whenever you smile.
The initials of these will present you the name
Of a lass far the sweetest that trips o'er the plains,
Graces hover around -- Love can't live without her
And Venus's doves EVER flutter about her.

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THO frosts destroy or blasts invade,
The Fig-tree's early bloom;
Or teeming vines in ruin laid,
By a severer doom.
Altho the olive, chearful plant!
Should wither, droop, and die,
And ev'ry Field, present pale WANT,
With meagre FAMINE nigh.
The Herds which erst made glad in the vale,
Should ruminate no more;
Nor yet at eve, within the pale,
Immur'd, our fleecy store.
Tho nature sickening all around,
Shed death from every star!
Nor pleasure's voice, nor cheerful sound,
Accost the listening ear.
Yet would I praise -- forever praise!
The sov'reign of the skies!
And my unceasing, ardent lays,
Should gratefully arise.
Jehovah holds 'th unerring reins;
Dispenses, or withdraws,
As wisdom infinite, ordains -
-And righteous are his Laws.

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In that ecstatic, joyous day,
When all the nations shall obey
Messiah! the anointed King!
And never ceasing tribute bring.
Then PEACE shall dwell in ev'ry street,
And Brethren, none but brethren meet:
Love - lovliest attribute divine,
In ev'ry face resplendant shine.
The passions! that deform the soul,
And with destructive sway controul;
Will then be all forever fled,
And LOVE - the monarch in their stead.
The brute Creation all around,
Shall with 'th endearing cord be bound.
Sweet Mildness, universal reign,
Nor scenes of slaughter shock the plain. 
The sanguinary Wolf no more,
Shall riot in the lambkin's gore:
But the same lawn, or nodding wood,
Behold them peaceful, crop their food.
The lion, tyrant of the field;
To the soft influence, too must yield;
He, urg'd by friendships gentle call
Will with the Bullock seek the stall.
The valiant child, with safety then,
May play within the serpents den:
The Hydra inoffensive lies,
Nor at the young intruder flies.
Lions blest walls shall comprehend,
And in one mass, the nations blend;
Love - will each rising wave compose,
And sooth to peace, the bitterest foes.
Nor Death shall ever there destroy;
Nor Sin - intrude to marr the joy.
But all! one radiant scene afford!
A Mountain holy to the Lord

Lo From the East
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LO! from the east the sun appears
And all the bright creation cheers!
The dew-wash'd grass erect their spires
And hail the genial orient fires.
While flow'rs expand their ev'ry sweet
And revel in the vital heat.
The lofty oak, the towering pine
To catch his beams sublimely climb!
Their waving tops reflect the blaze
And shed abroad his crimson rays.
Chill'd with the night, the flocks around
In the warm influence blithly bound
And usher in the gladsom day
With all the jollity of play.
The choristers in every grove
Begin the tuneful din of love:
Each bush resounds with sweetest notes!
Wild music on each zephyr floats. 
But Man! a nobler theme inspires
And Heav'n 'th immortal spirit fires!
At nature's rich & ample feast,
He sits a not unthankful guest,
Remembering all these goods below
From higher sources still do flow.
Led by Ambition all divine
He sighs for pleasures more sublime!
Nor ought his soul can satisfy
Short of the raptures in the skies.

Montgomery Tappen
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The sweetest, gentlest, of the youthful train,
Here lies his clay cold upon the sable bier!
He scarce had started on life's varied plain,
For dreary death, arrested his career.
His cheek might vie with the expanded rose,
And Genius sparkled in his azure eyes!
A victim so unblemish'd Heaven chose;
And bore the beauteous lambkin to the skies.
Adieu thou loveliest child! adieu adieu!
Our wishes fain would follow thee on high.
What more can friendship - what more fondness do,
But drop 'th unbidden tear & heave the sigh? 
Ye youths, whose ardent bosoms virtue fires:
Who eager wish applause & pant for fame;
Press round MONTGOMERY'S hearse
- the NAME inspires.
And lights in kindred souls its native flame.
COLUMBIA grateful hails the tender sound
And when MONTGOMERY'S nam'd still drops a tear.
From shore to shore to earth's remotest bound,
Where LIBERTY is known that NAME is dear.

Sarah Livingston
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BEYOND where billows roll or tempests vex
Is gone the gentlest of the gentle sex!
---Her brittle bark on life's wild ocean tost
Unequal to the conflict soon was lost.
Severe her sufferings! much, alas, she bore,
Then sunk beneath the storm & rose no more.
But when th' Archangel's awful trump shall sound
And vibrate life thro all the deep profound
Her renovated vessel will be seen,
Transcendant floating on the silver stream!
All beauteous to behold! serene she glides
Borne on by mildest & propitious tides;
While fanning zephyrs fill her snow white sails
And aid her passage with the friendliest gales
Till safe within the destin'd port of bliss
She furls her sails and moors in endless peace.

Henry Welles Livingston
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A gentle spirit now above
Once animated what lies here
Till heav'n announc'd in tenderest love
"Ascend Immortal to yon sphere."
The lambkin at the great behest
Gave up its life without one groan.
When lo! in robes supernal drest
He found the bright abodes his own!
Most glorious and delightful scenes
Rush'd full upon his raptur'd sense:
Beyond what fancy ever dreams,
Or Eden knew in innocence.
Adieu! Adieu! my sweest boy,
Adieu till life's vain dream be o'er;
Then with a parent's keenest joy,
I'll cling to Thee to part no more.

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FAIRER than the queen of love,
Constant as the turtle Dove;
Sweeter than the smiling May,
Calmer than the close of day,
Is the maid whose name I sing
--Shepherds find out who I mean.
Take that line around our sphere
Phoebus passes twice a year:
Take that passion forming nature,
Pour'd unbounded in each creature.
What the coxcomb's brow adorns,
(Pardon cuckolds, 'tis not horns.)
What the bigot calls his rage
And the central part of stage.
To the Jolly God of wine
Heaven's brilliant coachman join.
Morning of the human day
Full of innocence and play.
What the paltry scribbler writes
When the envious maggot bites.
Where the river wide o'erflowing
Sets the leeks and onions growing.
What we once perceived plain,
But will ne'er behold again.

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Take the name of the Deity lovers obey
And the golden tress'd God whose bright car gives the day;
The beveridge by gentle & simple most taken
And the colour maids wear when they think they're forsaken.
Add the flow'r whose odours unremittingly please us
And the chief who at Troy seiz'd the horses of Rheses.
The Goddess refulgent whose far-beaming rays
Can pour upon error meridian blase.
What makes the fair ladies and honey regarded,
Or the looks of poor Stephon by Phyllis discarded.
The name of a Lady who never was born;
And that period of day between evening and morn.
The initials of these if properly placed
Will discover a damsel angelicly faced:
Health dwells on her cheeks - Love laughs in her eye
And plays round her bosom -- to gase is to die.
The shepherds in love press fondly about her
All swearing by Cupid they can't live without her.
Impell'd by her merit, not less than her charms,
With the pinions of rapture I fly to her arms.

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On this thy natal day permit a friend -
A brother - with thy joys his own to blend:
In all thy gladness he would wish to share
As willing in thy griefs a part to bear.
Meekly attend the ways of higher heav'n!
Is much deny'd? Yet much my dear is giv'n.
Thy health, thy reason unimpaired remain
And while as new fal'n snows thy spotless fame.
The partner of thy life, attentive - kind -
And blending e'en the interests of the mind.
What bliss is thine when fore thy glistn'ing eye
Thy lovely infant train pass jocund by!
The ruddy cheek, the smiling morning face
Denote a healthy undegenerate race:
In them renew'd, you'll live & live again,
And children's children's children lisp thy name. 
Bright be the skies where'er my sister goes
Nor scowling tempests injure her repose -
The field of life with roses thick be strow'd
Nor one sharp thorn lie lurking in the road.
Thy ev'ry path be still a path of peace
And each revolving year thy joys increase;
Till hours & years & time itself be o'er
And one eternal day around thee pour.

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Hasty pilgrim stop thy pace
Turn a moment to this place
Read what pity hath erected
To a songster she respected.
Little minstrel all is o'er
Never will thy chirpings more
Soothe the heavy heart of care
Or dispel the darkness there.
I have known thee e'er the sun
Hath on yonder mountain shone;
E'er the sky-lark hath ascended,
Or the Thrush her throat distended;
Cheerful trill thy little ditty
As the singer, blithe and pretty.
Labour stood, half bent to hear,
Study lent a list'ning ear,
Dissipation stop'd a while,
Grief was even seen to smile,
Ambition - but the gushing tear
O'erwhelms the stone and stops me here. 

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YES, yes my swain, thy faithful wife's prepar'd
To hie to that dear cot thy hands have rear'd.
Tho there the way-worn pilgrim can't behold
The Cornich blazing with the fretted gold;
Altho no damask curtain gives the day
Its crimson tint, and sheds the purple ray;
Altho no surly porter stands in state
To guard the sumptuous and unsocial gate;
Tho thousand and ten thousand trivial things
Which Lux'ry and her sister Folly brings,
Be wanting there - yet there! Yet there I'll find
That richest furniture! A quiet mind.
With my own swain, unsever'd from my side,
Adown the stream of life I'll joyous glide.
Tho the brown horrors of the nodding wood --
Or -- brilliant landscapes dance upon the flood;
Thro each vicissitude I'll boldly steer,
Whilst Thou my love, my life, my all, art near.
Yes yes, my swain thy faithful wife will go,
With Thee thro summers heat, or winter's snow:
Where'er high Heav'n and you point out the way
Nor wish, nor ask, a moment's fond delay.
Clung to thy arm, with brighter scenes in view
I'll catch thy flame & feel thy raptures too!
To that dear cot thy hands have rear'd I'll hie,
Live with my swain & with my swain will die.

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The mount where old Homer has station'd Apollo:
With the star which leads on while the jolly hours follow.
That goddess refulgent whose far beaming rays,
Dart full upon error's dark midnight their blaze.
The dame with whom Phoebus sups nightly below:
And what the girls mean when they cry out no, no.
Then take, dearest creatures, what all will confess
Is a charming profusion you sweetly possess.
What old father Adam as pensive he stood
Of all situations pronounced not good.
That word of all words the most hideous I know
Which can from the lips of a pretty girl flow.
The season of life when the loves & the graces
Play round your dear bosoms & smile in your faces.
When the lark hies to rest and the woodman retires,
And Vesper shines brightest 'mong million of fires.
The enigma to close -- add the name of a maiden
The child of Bethuel and sister of Laban.
The initials of these if you place with precision
Will show you a damsel whose smile is Elysian.
Blended high in her cheek is the rose's rich dye,
With the crimson of rubys her lovely lips vie. 
Her breath aromatic surpasses the gales
When fraught with the sweets of ten thousand sweet vales.
Her brow the lake's smoothness exhibits serene,
Its calm representing the sunshine within.
The graces still flutter about & about her,
While the loves all declare that they can't live without her.
To gaze on such beauty unenraptured who can
Must be greatly superior, or less than a man.

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Master Timmy brisk and airy
Blythe as Oberon the fairy
On thy head thy cousin wishes
Thousand and ten thousand blisses.
Never may thy wicket ball
In a well or puddle fall;
Or thy wild ambitious kite
O'er the Elm's thick foliage light.
When on bended knee thou sittest
And the mark in fancy hittest
May thy marble truly trace
Where thy wishes mark'd the place.
If at hide and seek you play,
All involved in the hay
Titt'ring hear the joyful sound
"Timmy never can be found."
If you hop or if you run
Or whatever is the fun,
Vic'try with her sounding pinion
Hover o'er her little minion.
But when hunger calls the boys
From their helter skelter joys:
Bread and cheese in order standing
For their most rapacious handling
Timmy may thy luncheon be
More than Ben's as five to three.
But if hasty pudding's dish
Meet thy vast capacious wish -
Or lob-lollys charming jelly
Court thy cormorantal belly
Mortal foe to megre fast
Be thy spoonful first & last.

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Take the name of the swain a forlorn witless elf
Who was chang'd to a flow'r for admiring himself.	
A part deem'd essential in each lady's dress:
With what maidens cry, when they wish to say yes.
A lullabye carriage soft cozy & light:
With the name of the poet who sang on the night.
The queen of Cairo, all lovely and winning
Whose blandishments ever kept Antony grinning.	
The flow'r whose odours unremittingly please:
With the glory of forests, the king of the trees.
To the prince of the fairies, a jealous old knave,
Put the name of the tree that undid mother Eve.
To finish the whole add that period of day,
When the linnet & thrush to repose hie away.	
The initials of these, if adjusted with care,
Will show you the fairest where thousands are fair.
The sweet, pretty graces still hover about her,
And Cupid would die with vexation without her. 
When she swims in the dance or wherever she goes
She's crowded by witlings, plain-fellows & beaux
Who throng at her elbow & tread on her toes.
If a pin or a hankerchief happen to fall
To seize on the prise fills with uproar the hall:
Such pulling and hawling & shoving & pushing
As rivals the racket of 'key & the cushion;'
And happy- thrice happy! too happy! the swain
Who can replace the pin or bandana again.
Tho the fellows surround & so humbly adore her
The girls on the contrary cannot endure her;
Her beauty their beauty forever disgraces
And her sweeter face still eclipses their faces.
For no lov'ly girl can a lov'ly girl bear
And fair-ones are ever at war with the fair.

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WELLCOME wellcome happy day
Wherein love-sick maidens may
Unrestrained tell their swains
All their fondness - all their pains.
Honest truth we may declare
Only once within a year --
Cruel custom ties us down
To this day & this alone. 
Dearest Willy now believe me
Tho my frowns might long deceive you
When your ardent suit you press'd
All was tumult in my breast.
Trembling on my faultring tongue
Soft confessions often hung.
Charming fellow, when you sigh'd
All the pride within me dy'd
And it was with much ado
I could stammer no no no.
Now dear shepherd all is over
I will meet thee as a lover!
Pleased - I will freely bless
And right willing cry yes yes!

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In summer the aerial musicians around
With harmony filled the grove,
Delight sweld the bosoms where TASTE could be found
Or a throne for the emperor LOVE.
But when the bright day-star from far distant skies
Less potent directeth his ray --
And the wide spreading vapours in columns arise
To usurp the poor remnant of day;
When Summer's disrob'd of its mantle of green
And autumn all gloomy comes on
Air's sweet tuneful tenants in clusters convene
To follow their monarch the SUN.
They go! happy bands! -- but sorrow remains;
And silence broods over the plain:
Forlorn are the nymphs & dejected the swains,
And Sadness commences his reign.
Thus Willy you came & with you came Joy
Hilarity danc'd at the news!
And Venus's arch little hoodwinked boy
Was by the sly goddess turn'd loose. 
You join'd in our circles and mixt in our play;
You heighten'd the glee & the fun:
Banish'd gloomy brow'd sorrow all scowling away
And rivetted Mirth in her room.
But now, (as in Autumn the sky-lark retires)
From our rural amusements you flee,
To where the proud dome & gilt turret aspires;
And pleasure her banner lifts high:
Where theaters, music and dancing combine
With the hum & the news of the day;
To drive far off care & annihilate time
And chase sower sadness away.
But go where thou wilt, may the sunshine of peace
Gleam over thy head ever bright!
Each Joy be enhanced -- more refin'd ev'ry bliss
And multiplied ev'ry delight.
Still thick in thy path may the wild roses spring
Sweets of Eden around thee exhale!
While the white doves of Venus on high clap the wing
And Halcyons skim ov'r the vale.

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That hero whose great & magnanimous mind
Explored and gave a new world to mankind.
A shell fish by gentle & simple desired
And the word you most hated from her you admired.
The end of my plowing & aim of your speaking;
And the creatures that Saul & his servants were seeking.
What pope could not bear tho it's seen ev'ry day
When you my good friend & myself's on the way:
The initials of these will present you a swain
As clever as any that trips o'er the plain; 
Of aspect engaging, of manners refined,
And of Laws mighty carcase a member designed.
His friends have asserted (if fame with his trumpet
Don't lie like a harden'd old impudent strumpet)
That Ovid's gay volume & Horace's wit,
His fancy hath ever more forcibly hit,
I have Blackstone sententious and Solheld verbose.
Or Coke upon Littleton's afternoon dose.
And I must declare from my own observation
He shines at a teatable's mixt conversation.
To gay little things, he can little things utter
Whether Hyson's the subject or biscuit & butter. 
Talk of gowns from the tight closely puckered chammeze
To the light airy frisk & the loose poloneze.
In the mystery of Tuckers all yield to his learning
And each one allows in a hoop he's discerning:
In short from the shoe & the soft shammy glove
To the ostrich's feather that trembles above
He's deeply conversant -- He too has the art
To engage the affection & bind the soft heart;
To whisper the language of passion & truth
In the ear of sweet innocence, beauty & youth.
On my word pretty females his faults are but few
And such as will yield to be cured by you.
His virtues are many -- then hasten around him
And home to the heart with your lovely eyes wound him;
Transfix and transfix him, nor give up the day
Till you bear off the prize to the altar away.

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To my dear brother Beekman I sit down to write
Ten minutes past eight & a very cold night.
Not far from me sits with a vallancy cap on
Our very good couzin, Elizabeth Tappen,
A tighter young seamstress you'd ne'er wish to see
And she (blessings on her) is sewing for me.
New shirts & new cravats this morning cut out
Are tumbled in heaps and lye huddled about.
My wardrobe (a wonder) will soon be enriched
With ruffles new hemmed & wristbands new stitched.
Believe me dear brother tho women may be
Compared to us, of inferiour degree
Yet still they are useful I vow with a fegs
When our shirts are in tatters & jackets in rags.
Now for news my sweet fellow - first learn with a sigh
That matters are carried here gloriously high
Such gadding - such ambling - such jaunting about
To tea with Miss Nancy - to sweet Willy's rout
New parties at coffee - then parties at wine
Next day all the world with the Major must dine 
Then bounce all hands to Fishkill must go in a clutter
To guzzle bohea and destroy bread & butter
While you at New Lebanon stand all forlorn
Behind the cold counter from ev'ning to morn
The old tenor merchants push nigher & nigher
Till fairly they shut out poor Baze from the fire.
Out out my dear brother Aunt Amy's just come
With a flask for molasses & a bottle for rum
Run! help the poor creature to light from her jade
You see the dear lady's a power afraid.
Souse into your arms she leaps like an otter
And smears your new coat with her piggin of butter
Next an army of shakers your quarters beleager
With optics distorted & visages meagre
To fill their black runlets with brandy & gin
Two blessed exorcists to drive away sin.
But laugh away sorrow nor mind it a daisy
Since it matters but little my dear brother Bazee
Whether here you are rolling in pastime & pleasure
Or up at New Lebanon taffety measure
If the sweetest of lasses Contentment you find
And the banquet enjoy of an undisturb'd mind
Of friendship & love let who will make a pother
Believe me dear Baze your affectionate brother
Will never forget the fifth son of his mother.
P.S. If it suits your convenience remit if you please
To my good brother Paul an embrace & a squeeze.

Vine and Oak
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A vine from noblest lineage sprung
And with the choicest clusters hung,
In purple rob'd reclining lay
And catch'd the noontide's fervid ray:
The num'rous plants that deck the field
Did all the palm of beauty yield,
Pronounc'd her fairest of their train
And hail'd her empress of the plain.
A neighb'ring Oak whose spiry height
In low-hung clouds was hid from sight,
Who dar'd the winds in all their forms
And brav'd a thousand howling storms;
Conscious of worth, sublimely stood
The pride & glory of the wood.
He saw her all defenseless lay
To each invading beast a prey,
And wish'd to clasp her in his arms
And bear her far away from harms.
'Twas love -- 'twas tenderness -- 'twas all
That men the tender passion call.
He urg'd his suit but urg'd in vain,
The vine regardless of his pain
Still flirted with each flippant green
With seeing pleas'd, & being seen 
And as the syren Flattery sang
Would o'er the strains ecstatic hang
Enjoy'd the minutes as they rose
Nor fears her bosom discompose.
But now the boding clouds arise
And scowling darkness veils the skies;
Harsh thunders roar -- red lightnings gleam,
And rushing torrents close the scene.
The fawning, adulating crowd
Who late in thronged circles bow'd
Now left their goddess of a day
To the o'erwhelming flood a prey,
Which swell'd a deluge poured around
& tore her helpless from the ground;
Her rifled foliage floated wide
And ruby nectar ting'd the tide.
With eager eyes & heart dismay'd
She look'd, but look'd in vain for aid.
"And are my lovers fled," she cry'd,
"Who at my feet this morning sigh'd,
"And swore my reign would never end
"While youth & beauty had a friend?
"I am unhappy who believ'd!
"And they detested who deceived!
"Curse on that whim call'd maiden pride
"Which made me shun the name of bride, 
"When yonder oak confess'd his flame
"And woo'd me in fair honor's name.
"But now repentance comes too late
"And all forlorn I meet my fate."
The oak who safely wav'd above
Look'd down once more with eyes of love
(Love higher wrought with pity join'd
True mark of an exalted mind,)
Declar'd her coldness could suspend
But not his gen'rous passion end.
Beg'd to renew his am'rous plea -
- As warm for union now as he,
To his embraces, quick she flew
And felt & gave sensations new.
Enrich'd & graced by the sweet prise
He lifts her tendrils to the skies;
Whilst she, protected & carest
Sinks in his arms completely blest.

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Thou little four-led'd paltry varlet
It makes my colour rise like scarlet
To see thee jump upon a knee
Where I would give the world to be;
Nay, I could name the very time
When I beheld that nose of thine
Approach those lips which once to kiss
I felt the height of all my bliss.
These eyes have seen thy head at rest
Upon my lovely Delia's breast;
A breast from beauty's model made
Where all the loves & graces play'd.
I've seen thee gaze upon those eyes
Where roguish Cupid ever lyes
And meet a glance so soft - so kind
That envy fill'd my aching mind.
Spadille, in pity to my pain
Attempt thy perness to restrain -
- It hurts my soul to see a waste
Of fondness thou canst never taste.
Could I but take thy envied place
I'd gaze upon her lovely face
Till all inflamed with her charms
Around her neck I'd throw my arms
And riot in a sea of blisses
While giving & receiving kisses.

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Take the name of that hero who dreadful in war
Spread the terror of Rome thro the nations afar,
With the King of the fairies that sly jealous sprite
Who sleeps all the day but who gambols all night
Green caty-dids draw him - a nutshell contains him,
His kingdom a meadow & a dewdrop sustains him.
What the peasant enjoys when his labor is o'er
And the seaboy embraces the hurricane's roar.
What the pretty girls cry tho their meaning is yes
When swains at their feet ask the boon of a kiss.
That period of day when gay Phoebus retires
To the arms of his Thetis to meet keener fires.
That passion delightful which thrilling imparts
Feelings more than ecstatic to congenial hearts,
Which arouses to fury - and lulls to repose
Is keen as the thorn yet as sweet as the rose.
The goddess white-robed by whom unbefriended
Even beauty and wit pass along unattended.
That region where heav'n-born freedom resides
Where plenty is found and contentment abides
Where scenes all delightful enrapture the mind
Where each shepherd is true and each maiden is kind.
That goddess refulgent whose glance pours the day,
Where midnight, and error, and ignorance lay.
The chief who rush'd bold thro the Granican flood
While the fates pale with fear on the shore trembling stood.
What each one pursues tho but few can obtain
And ever repays its possession with pain.
What wrings the kind heart when distress is in view
And what each observer discovers in you.
And lastly that word which no lover can bear
Nor I from this charmer with patience can hear. 
The initials of these ye lads and ye lasses
Will show you a girl that description surpasses.
The lily combin'd with the new-open'd rose
In her bosom's displayed - on her cheek sweetly glows.
Her pencil e'en fancy throws by in despair
When fondly attempting to copy my fair.

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Take the name of that planet which sages declare
Has the guidance of madmen, the seas & the fair.
The monarch whose sway with the globe was extended
And yet on his favour no mortal depended.
The flow'r whose tints in yr cheeks sweetly glow
And the word maidens mean when they faintly cry no!
The region which FREEDOM has called her own
Where her standard high waves o'er her deep-rooted throne
Where the maidens are constant & faithful the swains
And the cadence of rapture is rung o'er the plains.
That period when Phoebus to meet keener fires
Down! down to his Thetis in glory retires
And the sage whose great soul rang'd thro ether on high
Scann'd ev'ry far planet & measur'd the sky.
That part of creation the fairest & best
Who gives to the whole all its flavour & zest.
The prince of the fairies that fanciful sprite
Whose empire begins & decays with the night.
That feeling ecstatic which heav'n design'd
As the greatest & best of its gifts to mankind.
The country whose elegance, beauty & science
Have signed a bond of perpetual alliance. 
Where Captains & lawyers & jurymen join
To establish the rights of the people divine.
The mountain where Jove as recorded in story
Sits wrapt with his eagle & Juno in glory.
That goddess refulgent whose ray thro the gloom
Of error's dark midnight can light up a noon.
Then close the enigma by adding the name
Of as jovial a creature as sings on the plain.
Joy laughs in his breast - health lives in his eye
And sorrow flys scowling whenever he's nigh.

CA 1787
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Before the friends of Mr. Power
In this good-natur'd happy hour
Respectfully we both appear
And wish you all a Happy Year.
You see in us a brace of chickens
Who, as the plot of nations thickens,
Deal at your doors each Wednesday morn
The sun-shine of the week - or storm. 
When earth quakes make old chimnies rattle
Or gossips in a corner tattle
Or twenty pumpkins in a row
Enormous on one tendril grow.
When flush'd with wine (the modern nectar)
Two Beaus as bluff & bold as Hector
Like lions meet and nobly dare
To flash their pistols in the air.
When sons of Neptune stoutly try
Who shall affirm the toughest lye
And swear they saw a fish, complete
From stem to stern, twelve thousand feet.
When three grim tygers make their dinners
Upon at least a dozen sinners
When Cupid's arrows don't miscarry
And lovers meet - & meeting marry:
When these events and thousands more
Are acted - or not acted o'er
The Country Journal ever ready
To seize its prey, all keen and steady
Pursues the tidings as they rise,
And plunders all as lawful prize: 
While we, the mercuries of the day,
Deliver at your feet the prey.
Tho suns shine clear, or tempests growl,
Mild zephyrs fan or whirlwinds howl;
Tho cold snows fly, or hailstones rattle
And ev'ry element's in battle:
Thro thick and thin and thin and thick
Go flound'ring on poor George and Dick!
Nor care a button for disasters
So you're contented gentle masters.
And now the end of all this clatter
Is but a small and trifling matter;
A puny six pence or a shilling
From willing souls to souls as willing.
And here to you our gen'rous donors
We pledge our sacred words of honours
No valrous rooster by our deed
Shall on the field of battle bleed.
Nor by our too-well-aimed ball
The hapless, flutt'ring turkey fall:
No deep-charged muskets thund'ring roar
Beneath the peaceful burghers door, 
Shall tell the sleeping folks within
That mighty New Year doth begin.
Like civil (chubs) we will retire
And by a snug and social fire
With cakes of season on the board
Collected from each housewife's hoard
We'll push the glass of mead about
And laugh the tedious ev'ning out. 

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To his charming black-ey'd niece
Uncle Harry wishest peace!
Wishes roses ever 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 & love. 

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With the ladies' permission, most humbly I'd mention
How much we're oblidged by all their attention;
We sink with the weight of the huge obligation
Too long & too broad to admit compensation.
For us (and I blush while I speak I declare)
The charming Enchanters be-torture their hair,
Till gently it rises and swells like a knoll
Thirty inches at least from the dear little poll;
From the tip-top of which all peer out together
The ribband, the gause, & the ostrich's feather;
Composing a sight for an Arab to swear at
Or huge Patagonian a fortnight to stare at.
Then hoops at right angles that hang from ye knees
And hoops at the hips in connection with these
Set the Fellows presumptuous who court an alliance
And ev'ry pretender, at awful defiance.
And I have been told (though I must disbelieve
For the tidings as fact, I would never receive)
That billets of cork have supplied the place
Of something the Fair-ones imagine a grace;
But whether 'tis placed behind or before;
The shoulders to swell, or the bosom to shoar
To raise a false wen or expand a false bump
Project a false hip or protrude a false rump,
Was never ascertain'd; and fegs I declare
To make more enquiry I never will dare.

Mistress Van Kleeck
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My very good landlady, Mistress Van Kleeck,
(For the tears that o'erwhelm me I scarcely can speak)
I know that I promis'd you hogs two or three
(But who knows his destiny? Certain not me!)
That I promis'd three hogs I don't mean to deny
(I can prove that I had five or six upon sty.)
Three hogs did I say? Three sows I say then
Pon' honour I ne'er had a male upon pen.
Well Madam, the long and the short of the clatter
For mumbling & mincing will not better the matter;
And murder and truth my dear mammy wd say
By some means or other forever saw day;
And Daddy himself, as we chop'd in the wood
Would often observe that lying wan't good.
Tell truth my sweet fellow - no matter who feels it:
It ne'er can do hurt to the man who reveals it.
But stop! - While my Dady and Mammy's the subject
I am running aside the original object --
The sows my sweet madam - the sows I repeat
Which you and your household expected to eat.
Instead of attending their corn and their swill
Gave way to an ugly he-sow's wicked will.
When 'twill end your good lady-ship need not be told
For Nature is still, as she hath been of old;
And when he cries YES, mortals may not cry NO
So Madam farewell, with my holliday bow.

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In a mouldering cave where the wretched retreat
Columbia sat wasted with care
She wept for her chief then exclaim'd ag' fate
And gave herself up to despair.
The walls of her cell she had sculptured around
With exploits her Montgomery had done
And even the dust as it lay on the ground
Was engraved with the deeds of her son.
When sudden the radiance of Heav'n appear'd
Around the disconsolate dame
And sweeter than music a cadence was heard
And this was the rapturous strain
"All gallant in arms thy Montgomery shone
When leading the patriot band
"But now in the skies he's advanced to a throne
"And the least of his glory - command."

The Fly
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As on a summer's fervid day
The youthful Delia slumb'ring lay,
A thousand Cupids fluttered round
The guardians of the hallow'd ground.
Some clustered in her auburn hair
To keep the ringlets wreathed there;
While others form'd a canopy
With wing in wing enlocked on high,
To ward each stragling solar ray
That thro the foliage found a way.
Another party took her breath
Replete with sweetness and with health,
To aid the elegant perfume
Of every charming flow'r in bloom.
But luckless girl! her snow-white breast
Which the inverted shawl confest,
A fly of taste had fondly chose
Whereon to riot or repose:
Him, a young sentinel espy'd,
And as his bow he bent he cry'd,
"Go sacrilegious caitif go
To writhe with plund'ring Gnats below."
The winged shaft as lightning flew
And pierced the hapless insect thro,
But stop'd not there - Roused by the smart
Poor Delia found it in her heart.

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I rise when I please, when I please I lie down
Nor seek, what I care not a rush for, renown:
The rattle call'd wealth I have learnt to despise
Nor aim to be either important or wise.
Let women & children & children-like men
Pursue the false trollop the world has called fame.
Who just as enjoyed, is instantly flown
And leaves disappointment the hag in her room.
If the world is content not to stand in my way
The world may jog on both by night & by day
Unimpeded by me - not a straw will I put
Where a dear fellow-creature uplifteth its foot.
While my conscience upbraids not, I'll rise and lye down
Nor envy a monarch his cares and his crown.

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If ever 'twas proper and lawful and decent
To mourn for a death both untimely & recent,
It certain is now -- Each grace and each muse
In the dear little creature a spice did infuse.
Like a sweet pretty lady she bridled her chin
And trip'd o'er the floor like another Miss Prim
And when the dear animal open'd its throat
Urania herself might have mother'd the note:
No coxcomb that pats o'er the rough-pebbled street
Or Beaux-ling self pleased so smooth & so sweet
Could meet with a smile or even a simper
If Belle dearer Belle was observed to whimper.
But if in sweet blandishment Belle frisk'd around
E'en wits with the beaux in despair left the ground.
But she's gone, lovely creature! the sweetest of curs
To weep is our LOT, but to slumber is hers.

Frontier Song
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Let statesmen tread their giddy round
Undoing and undone,
I hug my cell where still is found
My puppy squaw and gun.
Let the gay Beau and tinsel'd Belle
In pleasure's circle run,
My happiness their joys excel
My puppy squaw & gun.
When forests nod, and lakes expand
And foaming cat'racts stun
I've fix'd my home: on either hand
My puppy squaw & gun.
Ambitions's path, the miser's road
The legal maze I shun;
But cling to my belov'd abode
My puppy squaw & gun.

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The son of Alcmena the champion of fable
Who strangled a viper while yet in the cradle:
The chief who rush'd bold thro the Granican flood,
While the Fates, pale with fear, on the shore trembling stood.
The word ladies use tho their bosoms cry yes,
When the lads, saucy fellows! their suits fondly press:
And the sage whose great soul rang'd thro ether on high
Scan'd ev'ry far planet and measur'd the sky.
The realm which fair Freedom has called her own,
Where her standard high waves o'er her deep-rooted throne,
Where the maidens are constant & faithful the swains,
And the cadence of rapture is rung o'er the plains.
The region where goodness and virtue will soar
When earth with its tinsel, and time are no more.
The season of visions with terrors unfolding
And the skies' fierce virago perpetually scolding.
The Queen of Egypta Mark Antony's bane
At once both the pride of the sex & the shame.
What the sweet girl I love can bestow if she please;
And the tree whose soft branch is the emblem of peace.
That passion ecstatic which unites & combines
In a center delightful susceptible minds --
Which arouses to fury -- and lulls to repose --
As keen as the thorn, yet as sweet as the rose.
The author of Shandy, all laughter & glee
Whose pencil from gall was forever kept free: 
The mountain where Jove as recorded in story
Sat wrapt with his eagle and Juno in glory!
And lastly the beveridge which up-above people
If poets sing truly eternally tipple.

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FROM morn to eve from eve to rosy morn
On this bleak rock I'll lay me all forlorn;
Here will I stay tho' tempests howl around
Fierce lightnings glare or earthquakes rock the ground.
The prowling wolves - the hungry birds of prey
Pierc'd with my moans will rove another way:
Less steel'd than man, with hearts dissolv'd they go
And lose their nature at the voice of woe. 
And did ye O my hapless offspring! bleed
For your unhappy Father's thoughtless deed?
He fell alas on Gilboa's fatal plain
And gave his life 'mong thousands nobly slain.
--He had his faults; but he was kind and brave,
And with him all his errors found a grave:
-- Thus fondly I - With cursed, deadly hate
Against his house is hurl'd the bolts of state;
For royal David wrapt in purple-grieves
While one of Saul's unfort'nate lineage lives:
His word is fate -- Myself, my children, all
Must in an undistinguish'd ruin fall.

To Miss
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Hail! pride of each lass & the wish of each swain
The sweetest & loveliest girl on the plain!
The graces & Muses your footsteps attend--
Each shepherd a lover, each maiden a friend.
Continue dear nymph, as ever you've been
Of beauty and merit's fair empire, the Queen;
Of pain or misfortune the names only know,
And the rose of content in your path ever grow.
Bright rise the young year newly born eighty-nine
On the girl I would give all the globe to call mine:
The bounties of fortune around her be strow'n
For goodness and beauty sweet girl are thy own.

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The legislators pass along
A solemn, self-important throng!
Just raised from the common mass
They feel themselves another class.
--But let them in the sunshine play
For every dog must have his day.
There moves the law's close-wedged band
The scourge & terror of the land!
Pandora's box replete with ills
Not half so baleful as their quills.
The sons of Galen, ghastly crew!
Next pass in horrible review:
Arm'd with each instrument of death
To sap the citadel of Health.
Ten thousand times ten thousand fall
And physic's monster gulps down all.
Bellona's sons, a num'rous train,
now darken all the dusky plain!
--War, their amusement, Death their trade
And the one sin, to be afraid.
They're but another dire disease
The soul from prison to release:
And man forlorn, as well may be
A prey to steel as malady:
Explore he must the mortal road,
The only diff'rence is the mode.
The men in black bring up the rear,
More warm to preach than folks to hear:
Each points to his own fav'rite road
As leading to the blest abode
Proclaiming loud that all are wrong
Who don't around his banners throng.
Till, all confounded FAITH retires
And frighten'd CHARITY expires.

To Miss (Roses)
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SWEET as op'ning roses are
As 'th expanded lilly fair
Blithsome as the breathing day
Smiling as the smiling May
Heav'n itself her feeling mind
Loveliest of the lovely kind
Is my Daphne - sweetest maid
That e'er sported in the glade
When beneath the nodding grove
She inclines to muse or rove
Airs of Eden float around
Flow'rs spontaneous deck the ground
Cupids clap their wings about her
Life itself's not life without her.

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Robins! stop your whistling throats
Listen to my sweeter notes;
Cease to hop from spray to spray
While I trill the wedding lay.
Thrushes on the maples' top
For a moment pray-ye stop --
Twitt'ring swallows cease to twitter
Hearken to my ditty sweeter --
Lovesick turtles gently cooing
Leave your honey-suckle wooing --
Little wrens I humbly beg
Take your music down a peg --
Whipperwills sweet bird of gloom,
Stop your loud nocturnal tune;
And ye hooting lovely owls
Listen to my lovelier howls.
'Twas summer when softly the breezes were blowing
And Hudson majestic so sweetly was flowing
The groves rang with music & accents of pleasure
And nature in rapture beat time to the measure
When Helen and Jonas so true and so loving
Along the green lawn were seen arm in arm moving
Sweet daffodils, violets and roses spontaneous
Wherever they wandered sprang up instantaneous.
The ascent the lovers at length were seen climbing
Whose summit is grac'd by the temple of Hymen:
The genius presiding no sooner perceived them
But spreading his pinions he flew to receive them:
With kindest of greetings pronounced them wellcome
While hollidays clangor rang loud to the welkin.

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The wisest of monarchs yet weakest of men
With the chief who in vengeance wrapt Ilium in flame
The pride of the world & delight of the stage
Whose numbers delight both the simple & sage.
The country to freeman & Liberty giv'n
The first on the globe highly favor'd by heav'n
With the word ladies use, tho their bosoms cry Yes
When the man of their choice for their hands fondly press.
The tree whose curst fruit was the cause of our ruin
When Satan, our good Mother Eve came a wooing.
The period devoted to friendship & love
When naught but the nightingale gladdens the grove
That feeling ecstatic by Heav'n design'd
As its first & its greatest of gifts to mankind.
The prelude to marriage, when maidens so coy
Turn blushing away from the prospect of Joy
& lastly the writer whose poetic flight
Rose high as the stars in his descant on Night.

Catharine Breese Livingston
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We fondly nurs'd an op'ning rose,
Watch'd o'er each beauty every day;
But ah! a withering blast arose
And swept our lovely flow'r away.

The Frog King
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The frogs of calm & quiet tir'd
From Jupiter a king requir'd
Of sport and frolic always fond
A log was tumbl'd in the pond
The splash astounded, forth they fled
Till one by one was rais'd a head
The log lay still - they bolder grew
And round their king their squadrons threw
Distrust and fear now all suspended
They to his back in shoals ascended
Enjoy'd their visionary hour
And croak'd defiance to his pow'r
A meeting was resolv'd upon
The tidings thro the rushes sung
The day arriv'd - the chair was plac'd
And by a rev'rend croaker grac'd
A secretary too was nam'd
For penmanship & talents fam'd
A long petition then was form'd
And by a thousand names adorn'd
They join'd unanimous to say
Their king a sluggish monster lay
Whom nothing they could do could jostle
Alike unfit to rule or bustle
Jove frown'd & down a stork he threw
Into the discontented crew
His majesty with hunger keen
Their mottl'd ranks began to thin
Now wad'd here - now stalk'd there
Nor knew nor age nor sex to spare
Now from the bog a pray'r arose
To free them from this worst of woes
Jove stopped up his ears in fumo
And turn'd to fondle with his Juno
Leaving the frogs to moan & fret
And meet as best they could their fate.

Original Poems
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A cool reflecting northern sage
It seems don't suit this reckless age
The sunburnt southrons one & all
For x Jackson call
Declare his fire alone is able
To cleanse the Washingtonian stable
Till opposition can't be found
And as an apex to the whole
And then to close the rigamarole
x up a kidnap'd Seminole
For hickory bosoms x
To brush the cobwebs from the vale

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WHEN time was young the story goes
The birds and beasts were mortal foes:
The Lion led the latter throng
The Eagle urg'd the birds along.
The Tyger flash'd his lightning eyes,
The Cocks loud clarion reach'd the skies:
Breathing defiance -- Grimly here
Growl'd the relentless savage bear.
Now Turkeys gobbled alarms
And Skunks and field mice rush'd to arms.
A regiment of Moles were brought
Where the heroic Linnets fought.
The ponderous Elephant was plac'd
Where the gigantic Ostrich pac'd;
The Zebra's rough resistance found
From Cassowary's battle ground,
And Wrens would flutter peck & scratch
Where the prim ground squirrel kept his watch.
Neutral, the Bat here stood alone
And arms or panoply had none 
Averring o'er and o'er again
He was no beast - Twas very plain -
For he could fly - and stretch'd a wing
There could not be a simpler thing:
He could not be a bird was clear
By pointing to his ears and hair.
While still the rage of battle burn'd
Those subterfuges serv'd his turn;
But when at last the Eagle rose
Superior o'er his flying foes
The Bat was seiz'd to hear his doom
Unlucky culprit! Much too soon.
Sentence pronounced by Judge advocate Crow
Unworthy of meridian light,
Too base for even ebon night,
In twilight only dare to fly
To seize the beetle humming by;
Then hie thee to thy murky place
And muffle there thy recreant face. 

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In arts and arms Escotia stands
Foremost of European lands
Dear soil! from whence my fathers came
I bless and hail thy worth and fame.
Thy sturdy sons in martial pride
With their good broad-swords by their side
In tartain plaid and bonnets blue
A band of Heroes in review.
Scotland excels in peaceful arts:
-Her pulpits warm the coldest hearts;
In poetry her Thompson shines
And thrills us with his glowing lines.
Ramsay and Burns each in their day
Attune their lyres in sweetest lay,
While Scot ascends Parnassus heights
And all the listening world delights.
-But - useless grown my broken shell
I bid the land of cares farewell
Oppressed with the lapse of time
I faintly dream of Auld Lang-Syne.

Crane and Fox
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In long gone years a fox and crane
Were bound in friendship's golden chain;
Whene'er they met, the fox would bow
And madame Crane would curtsie low:
My lovely Crane how do you do?
I'm very well - pray how are you?
Thus time passed on, both very civil
Till Reynard in an hour evil
Projected what he thought a stroke
The world would call a pretty joke.
A billet wrote on gilded paper
And sealed it with a perfumed wafer 
Announced the day, if she saw fit
To take a tete-a-tete tit-bit:
The day arriv'd - She preen'd each feather
And summon'd ev'ry grace together;
At breakfast scarce a morsel eat
Intent to riot at the treat.
She came - Wide stood 'th unfolded door
And roses deck'd the sanded floor.
There hyacinths in festoons hung
Here lillies their rich fragrance flung.
The table drawn - The damask spread
And soup prepared of bullock's marrow
Pour'd in each plate profuse - But shallow:
The fox began to lap in haste
And made a plentiful repast,
Pressed his fair friend to do the same
And to encourage, lap'd again. 
The Crane be sure with her long beak
Could not a single morsel pick:
She felt the bite -- but little said
And very soon her exit made;
Just beg'd the fox would come next day
And sup with her in her plain way:
Reynard declared she did him honor
He certainly would wait upon her.
Her domicile was well prepar'd
No cost or labor had been spared:
Roses and tulips on the floor
And daffodils the ceiling bore;
Nor was a band of music wanting
For whippoorwills and frogs were chanting.
The sun had set and given way
To sober evening's mantle gray:
The fox arriv'd with stomach keen
Hoped he saw in health his Queen
And added in his courtliest air
She ne'er before had look'd so fair.
The Crane replied in mildest mood
That all he said was very good,
She meekly meant to do her duty
And ne'er dream'd of praise or beauty.
She spoke - The table soon was spread
And ev'rything in order laid:
Two narrow jars now grac'd the board
With nicely minced ven'son stored:
Now let's fall to sir if you will -
And in she pok'd her slender bill
And gulp'd of viands at her leisure
To see you eat would give me pleasure
She cried - Eat neighbor eat
I fear you do not like my treat;
It suits my palate to a hair
Pray Chummy eat and do not spare.
The fox looked on with rueful phys
Feeling in all its force the quiz.
The Crane enjoy'd his discontent
And thus address'd him as he went,
The truest adage ever spoke
Was "He that GIVES must TAKE a joke."

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The miser Midas to his store
Was anxious to add more and more -
Poor Jupiter no peace could have
From his eternal restless CRAVE;
And his petitions wax'd so bold
He prayed whate'er he touch'd were gold:
Jove in a pet, supplied his want
And sent down Hermes with the grant.
The Save-all, Have-all, now elated
Flew to his Queen and all related
In transport took her in his arms
But found a mass of golden charms:
Amaz'd he sought his sofa's down
The sofa was metalic grown.
Affrighted now, the bell he found;
'Twas turned to gold, and could not sound.
His guards attended to his call
And rush'd en-masse into the hall
A well appointed martial band -
He seized their leader by the hand   
And beg'd assistance - But behold
The galant captain turn'd to gold.
A cup of wine he next besought
The wine was by a servant brought,
But e'er he took a single sip
A lump of gold assail'd his lip. 
Dispirited and almost spent
T'was gold, and gold, where'er he went
T'ill loosd from life's enfeebled hold
He perish'd in the midst of gold.

God is Love
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I LOVE my feeble voice to raise
In humble pray'r and ardent praise
Till my rapt soul attains that height
When all is glory and delight.
I LOVE to read the book of Heav'n
Which Grace to fall'n man has giv'n;
Where evr'y page and evr'y line
Proclaims its origin divine.
I LOVE that consecrated Fane
Where GOD has stamp'd his holy name:
United with my brethren there
We hear the word and join in pray'r.
I LOVE to join the pious few
And there the covenant renew,
Recount our joys, relate our grief
And jointly ask from GOD relief.
I LOVE on Pity's wing to fly
To sooth the deep expiring sigh,
To wipe the tear from wan distress
And light a smile on Sorrow's face.
I LOVE to view domestic bliss
Bound with the ligature of peace,
Where Parents - Children - All agree
To tune the lute of harmony.
I LOVE the morning's roseate ray,
I bless the glorious march of day,
And when the lulling ev'ning comes
I love the night amidst its glooms. 
I LOVE to anticipate the day
When the freed spirit wings its way
To the Jerusalem above
Where reigns 'th eternal SOURCE of LOVE.

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Pray dearest mother if you please
Cut up your double-curded cheese
The oldest of the brotherhood
It's ripe no doubt & nicely good
Your reputation will rise treble
As we the lucious morsel nibble
Praise will flow from each partaker
Both on the morsel and the maker. 
Your suit is vain, - upon my word
You taste not yet my double-curd:
I know the hour - the very minute
In which I'll plunge my cutteau in it;
Am I to learn of witless bairns
How I must manage my concerns?
As yet the fervid dog-star reigns
And gloomy Virgo holds the reins
Be quiet chicks - sedate & sober
And house your stomachs till October,
Then for a feast! Upon my word
I'll really cut my double-curd. 

Without Distinction
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Without distinction, fame, or note
Upon the tide of life I float,
A bubble almost lost to sight
As cobweb frail, as vapor light;
And yet within that bubble lies
A spark of life which never dies. 

CA 1803
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ALL hail to the season so jovial and gay,
More grateful to NEWS-BOYS than blossoms of May,
Than Summer's green gown, or Miss Autumn's brocade,
Bespangled with gold, and with diamonds o'erlaid;
Give me surly Winter, bald-headed and bare,
Cold nights, frosty mornings, and keen piercing air,
With storms roaring round him; rain, hail, sleet and snow,
While hoarse, from the mountains the howling winds blow;
For Summer and Autumn and fair-bosom'd Spring,
With their pinks and their peaches, no holidays bring;
But now comes blithe Christmas, while just in his rear,
Advances our saint, jolly, laughing, NEW-YEAR,
Which, time immemorial, to us has been made
The source of our wealth and support of our trade,
For then, cockahoop with the magical song,
That charms from your purses the glittering l'argent,1
With our pulse beating quick, and our breast void of pain,
We quit types and shadows, the substance to gain.
But what, on this festive occasion, to say,
Is a question which puzzles your poet, to day;
Since the storms which have ravag'd old Europe are o'er,
And the light'nings and thund'rings of war are no more;
Even Oglou, who Turkey's grand Seignior defied,
Has, at length, gain'd his point, and preferment beside;
Toussaint, the black chief, too, is trick'd by Le Clerc,
And in chains sent to limbo by king Bonaparte,
While General Le Death, to revenge such foul play,
Tricks Le Clerc and his minions in much the same way,
And Negroes, by plunder and carnage and flame,
Shew Frenchmen how well they their rights can maintain.
Well -- since from abroad no great tidings are brought,
Let us see what at home there is, worthy of note;
Why here we find little to trouble our heads,
Except paper-battles 'twixt Demos and Feds;
Abusing and squabbling and wrangling and spite,
Though I, for my life, see not what they get by't,
Unless 'tis the pleasure their venom to spit
And make folks believe they've abundance of wit;
But in this they mistake, for abuse, 'tis well known,
Is the wit and the wisdom of blackguards, alone.
But to come to the point which I've long had in view,
My patrons attend, I've a few words for you;
You'll please to remember how, many months past,
While tempest roar'd loud and while shrill scream'd the blast,
When heat sing'd the earth and when cold froze the air,
And sometimes when suns shone serenely and fair,
With the news gather'd up from the wide world all o'er,
True as time, ev'ry week, I arriv'd at your door;
And now, as old custom ordains, I appear,
To present you, my Patrons, a HAPPY NEW-YEAR,
The year which we name EIGHTEEN HUNDRED and THREE,
Which brings you a song and your Carrier a Fee,
At least I predict so (with deff'rence to you)
As we all can predict what we wish to be true.
How cheerfully then will I stick to the press
For a twelvemonth to come -- be the same more or less,
To tell you what wonders the Fates bring along,
And how they behave, distant nations among;
To tell you if War his bold clarion shall sound,
Or Betsy's shrill voice Billy's bosom shall wound;
If fevers shall rage and their thousands destroy,
Or your poultry be kidnap'd by some thievish boy;
If hurricanes level both city and town,
Or Bragman, the bully, knock Limberlegs down;
Or Johnny be pierc'd by Miss Jenny's bright eye;
Or if congress shall make, or our state legislature,
Remarkable movements - by land or by water,
And many more strange things we'll tell you to boot,
As the seasons roll on and occasion shall suit.
But 'tis time that I bid you good bye, till next year,
By wishing you happiness, peace and good cheer;
To the ladies, the charms both of form and of face,
Expression, attraction, and each nameless grace,
Their tempers benign, ting'd with sentiment's fire,
Galants whom they love and the swains they admire;
To the clergy meek charity, unmix'd with pride,
And something to wake us on Sunday, beside;
To the farmer fine crops; to the merchant much trade;
To the sexton small use for the mattock and spade;
To physicians few patients; to lawyers light fees;
But to printers, the shiners, as oft as you please;
In short, to conclude my nonsensical song
To all, what they wish, if they wish nothing wrong. 

Catharine Livingston Breese
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Her little bark on life's wide ocean tossed,
In the unequal struggle soon was lost:
Severe its conflict! Much alas it bore!
Then sunk beneath the storm and rose no more.
But when th' Archangels clarion shall sound,
And thunder lIFEl thro all the vast profound,
Her renovated vessel will be seen
Transcendent floating on the stream;
The joyful ensigns waving in the air,
The tides propitious and the zephyrs fair,
Till safe within the destin'd port of bliss
The anchor drop in everlasting peace.

CA 1819
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TIME, with his pinions broad and strong
Still urges and still urges on,
Nor man's weak arm, or Angel's pow'r
Can stop his course a single hour.
The year elaps'd, alas! HAS BEEN
Nor ever more will glad the scene;
Its suns, its moons, its stars, are fled,
And left oblivion in their stead.
The incidents that mark'd its reign,
My feeble muse will briefly name.
COLUMBIA, freed from foreign strife,
Sees Arts and Commerce wake to life;
The ploughman's ditty cheers the plain,
The striped banner skims the main,
The hammer rings, the furnace glows,
And Industry her meed bestows.
Far in the south the red-men's yell
Was scarcely heard ere vengeance fell:
Jackson appear'd -- the tumults cease --
But one short month, and all is peace.
From scenes of petty wars, we turn
To where the noblest feelings burn;
Where lofty views and grand design,
Impress the grand and the sublime:
Ere long the western lakes will glide
And meet the Hudson's flowing tide;
Commerce will hail the fond embrace,
And smiles illumine Labor's face;
Science and Art will both rejoice
To join the all-applauding voice:
The Atlantic pendant then will wave,
O'er realms which western billows lave;
And barks of pleasure skim the floods
O'er-hung by Huron's lofty woods.
This chain of union, strong and bright
Will bind the Fed'ral quiver tight;
Millions unborn will bless the man
Who first conceiv'd 'th enlighten'd plan,
And on the high recording fane
Will shine 'th immortal Clinton's name.
Where Chimborazo, huge and high,
Sees a wide realm beneath him lie;
Where the gigantic Maranon
O'er equatorial plains flows on;
And wide Laplata wandr'ring slow,
Throws a new sea on seas below,
There Freedom's ensign high unfurl'd
Gladdens a long enslaved world;
Throngs, press'd on throngs, surround the Fair,
And Io-peans rend the air.
Hispania with malignant frown
Sees all her servile hordes o'erthrown;
Sullen and feeble, proud and poor,
She recks the ills she cannot cure.
From torrid climes and fervid skies
My panting muse to Europe flies;
Sees Britain's genius drop the tear
On hapless Charlotte's passing bier:
In total gloom her monarch sighs
While scarce in life his consort lies;
Thick clouds involve the Brunswick line,
Tho' faintest rays around them shine,
Their setting sun's enfeebled beam
Is scarcely felt, and hardly seen.
At La Chapelle a scenery new
Bursts on the gazing public view:
Monarchs with monarchs hold debate,
And weigh in scales Europa's fate.
In fabled lore Prometheus lay
Chain'd to a rock, the vulture's prey;
His liver torn and torn again,
Is still renew'd - renew'd his pain.
So, on Helena's arid crest
Is chain'd creations's deadliest pest!
Plac'd far above his least controul,
The vulture CONSCIENCE, rends his soul:
But torture with its keenest smart
Cannot amend his morbid heart.
Like the fell Tyger in his cage
Which growls and growls impotent rage --
Enlarg'd -- would rush a Fury forth
And hurl destruction o'er the earth.
Believe me, dear patrons, I have wand'red too far,
Without any compass, or planet or star;
My dear native village I scarcely can see
So I'll hie to my hive like the tempest-tost bee.
Hail home! sacred home! to my soul ever dear;
Abroad may be wonders but rapture is here.
My future ambition will never soar higher
Than the clean brushed hearth and convivial fire;
Here I lounge at my pleasure, and bask at my ease,
Full readily sooth'd, and desirous to please,
As happy myself as I happy can be,
I wish all the circle as happy as me.
But hark what a clatter! the Jolly bells ringing,
The lads and the lasses so jovially singing,
Tis New-Years they shout and then haul me along
In the midst of their merry-make Juvenile throng;
But I burst from their grasp: unforgetful of duty
To first pay obeisence to wisdom and Beauty,
My conscience and int'rest unite to command it,
And you, my kind PATRONS, deserve & demand it.
On your patience to trespass no longer I dare,
So bowing, I wish you a HAPPY NEW YEAR.

Gilbert Cortlandt
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BEYOND where billows roll or tempests vex
Is gone! the best, and loveliest of his sex!
His brittle bark on life's wild ocean tost,
In the unequal conflict soon was lost.
Tho' short its struggle, much alas it bore,
Then sank beneath the storm, and rose no more.
But when the Arch-angels awful trump shall sound
And thunder, LIFE, thro' all the vast profound,
The renovated vessel will be seen;
Transcendant floating on the silver stream!
Its joyful Ensigns waving in the air,
The tides propitious, and the zephyrs fair!
'Til safe within the destin'd port of bliss,
Each sail is furl'd, and all around is peace.

Marriage Tax
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With tears in my eyes I the other day saw
In Power's paper a committee law
Which lately that limb of our sage legislature
Bounc'd full in the faces of women and nature.
A tax upon marriage! -- O ill-timed measure
T'attack thus the fountain of rapture and pleasure,
That fountain whence flows all that gladden mankind
Or ever united a mind to a mind!
Don't the flowery meadows, the fields and the woods
The Vintners and pedlars and imported goods?
Our carts and our waggons, our coaches and chairs,
Our cows and our bullocks, our stallions and mares,
Our jaumbs, and our paper, our stucco and stairs,
All lie at your mercy? Then pity and spare
Ye wise ones, the pride of creation -- the FAIR!
For what do the ribbons and ostriches feather
On the top of their head-dresses totter together? 
For what do the gauzes and lutestrings combine
To beautify forms already divine;
Or why do the buckles resplendent in paste
Exhibit the richness of purse and of taste?
But all to procure, either early or late,
That charming convenience, a -- masculine mate.
Let pity then prompt you, ye wise ones to spare,
Those Men-traps so prudent, so sweet and so fair.

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WHEN blooming health and chearful days
    Far from my tents had flown,
When nature sunk by quick decays
    And ev'ry hope was gone.
When yawning dreadful in my sight
    Lay the dark dismal tomb,
To tear me from the chearful light
    And plunge me in its gloom:
My God and why withhold thy race?
    I cry'd in pangs of woe!
No more thy Heav'n - diffusing face
    Shall I behold below.
As Cranes that chant in clouds above,
    At times I loud complain;
And then like the lone mourning dove
    In secret sigh my pain.
Like the Arabians shifted tent,
    Departed is mine age;
And as the weavers shuttle spent,
    I drop from off the stage
But what am I, poor breathing clay,
    That dare to murmur still?
Asham'd, resigned, I obey
    Nor more dispute his will.
By grief and pain, distress and death,
    The soul is hush'd to peace:
That when is past th' expiring breath
    It may respire in bliss.

German Spa
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Shrew'd remarkers often say
Men were formed to betray;
Form'd to fascinate the fair,
Then to plunge them in despair:
Tyrants of creation made,
Prone like tyrants to invade!
Wanting what they can't enjoy,
        And to love unknowing.
Feigning rapture when we're by,
Willing at our feet to die:
Vow, the smiles or frowns of fate
On important females wait.
If, unversed in their arts,
We surrender up our hearts;
Cool, they view the sacrifice,
        And the maid expiring.
While my heart is yet my own,
Nor my soft affections flown;
Ev'ry passion at command --
Free my heart as free my hand;
Cool, I'll hear the tale of love,
'Till convinc'd, I may approve:
Then I'll fly to meet my swain,
        Nor disguise my rapture.

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BLOOMING as the youthful May,
As the brilliant morning gay,
(Loves and graces playing round
Ever where the nymph is found)
Smiling, she a needle drew,
And my sleeve transfixed thro':
Touch'd my arm -- tho' small the smart,
Yet I feel it at my heart.
Cupid from his polish'd bow,
Never did an arrow throw,
In his most capricious whim,
Half so fatal or so keen.
Wounded whither shall I go,
But to her that gave the blow?
Spare your victim, Charmer spare!
Be not cruel as you're fair.

Past is the Hour
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PAST is the hour, forever flown,
When Philis with me stray'd--
That purest bliss forever gone,
While mutual vows we made.
The time was eve, how clear the sky!
Harmonious every spray;
Nor one intruding mortal nigh,
To hear what love could lay.
Timid I did to her unfold
The secret of my breast;
But n'er so clumsily was told
The sense I'd have express'd.
Yet Philis heard me not displeas'd,--
She smil'd, and blush'd, and smiled;
Dawn'd now my day! my heart was eas'd,
Each minute bliss beguiled. 
Eternal constancy I swore,
And Philis vow'd to me;
Now Philis, Stephen loves no more,
No more will Stephen see.
Another swain to Philis vows,
To him she curties low:
"Ah! Philis, he may break his vows,
"And prove as false as you.
"Tho' he than Stephen richer be;
"Tho' first he shine of beaux;
"Yet boast he not such constancy,
Nor loves as Stephen does."
Still she permits the butterfly
To wing around the fair,
And leaves her constant swain to die,
A' prey to fell dispair.
Thus Stephen sung beneath the shade,
Thus taught the grove to sigh,
While tell-tale winds, that round him play'd,
Convey'd the song to me.

Eliza Hughes
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Ev'ry grace in her combine,
Love and truth and friendship join,
In one source without reserve,
Zealous all her friends to serve,
And diffuse true harmony.
Happy nymph of chaste repose,
Unsullied as the vernal rose.
Gay -- majestic -- yet serene,
Handsome, with a graceful mien;
Ev'ry charm in her appear,
She is lovely, chaste and fair.

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MUCH I admire, thou loveliest of the fair,
Awake or sleep -- thou art my only care,
Rising or falling -- no beauty can I see,
(I can see none) except 'tis lovely thee,
And on thee rests my whole felicity.
Must I admire again -- I must and will,
And think on thee whole charms so often kill.
Return the love which glows within my breast,
Take pity on a heart, which knows no rest;
I can no longer brook thy lovely scorn,
Nor can I live, and living, live forlorn.

American Eagle
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In bleak Potosi's inmost cells
Where everlasting Chaos dwells
Small rills of mercury abound
Meandering through the deep profound:
These rills by kindred atoms join'd
By lapse of time grow more refin'd;
Internal heat then adds its pow'r
Till what was fluid flows no more
And the result is golden ore.
Such once I was -- and haply lay,
Nor knew, nor wish'd, for light or day.
A Capac rose, a Capac fell
A thousand fathoms o'er my cell;
And to my dismal dark recess
E'en Spanish thunder could not press.
At length discordant sounds arose
To fright me from my long repose.
I saw the light -- the human face --
And man usurp'd my native place.
Borne from the mine, far, far away
A mass of kindred ores we lay
But stay not long -- Fierce chemic fire
Bid ev'ry drossy part retire
Till at the forceful last essay
A splendid ingot fair I lay.
Commerce now join'd me to its store
And o'er the foaming ocean bore,
Safely within the Mint was flung
Where other changes o'er me hung.
The Die and the terrific Screw
Another form around me threw;
I rose an Eagle fresh and new.
A congress sage of aspect grave
Not over wise nor quite a knave,
Receiv'd me in the shape of pay
(The stipend of a single day)
And bore me to the south away.
Here I was bounc'd and urged through
Adventures rare as well as new.
A man of rice thro' one whole day
Controul'd with undisturbed sway              
But e'er the dawn of morrows light,
Evanish'd from his purse and sight.
From rice to cotton I was flung:
Then in a Reticule was hung:
My mistress was all smirk all smile
And bore my jingling well a while,
Then in a fit of finery lost me
And to a Canton Crape man tost me:
He grin'd as he receiv'd the treasure
And dropt me in his till at leisure.
Here I lay slumbering out of sight
Two long, long days and one short night
The sherriff came with stern Fi Fa
And bore me from the till away.
How I came there I scarcely know
Or right or wrong 'twas truly so
I found myself with lott'ry Waite
Who long had whirl'd the wheel of Fate
A paltry prize a carman drew
And in his leather pouch I flew
But er he sought his crib of rest
A grocer hous'd me in his nest.
Dandies and Belles by turn carest me
And Feds and Tails by fits possest me.
I'm worn a little I must own
And my first blush of brightness gone;
A little too decres'd in weight
But what is left is sterling plate;
Tho' clip'd and sweated, worn and old
My latest atom will be GOLD.
One little word of moral o'er
And then we part to meet no more.
Pursue me reader if you please
With moisten'd brow or yawn of ease;
Urge on the chase or slow or keen,
Keep conscience clear and fingers clean.
The golden calf of Moab's plain
Was Israel's sin and Israel's shame
Till wiser Moses made them quaff
Their recent God the molten calf.


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