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Poem by Henry Livingston


1819 New Years Carriers Address


Believe me, dear patrons, I have wandred too far,
Without any compass, or planet or star;
My dear native village I scarcely can see
So Ill 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 soothd, 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 mdist 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 intrest 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.



Henry Livingston


Henry Livingston's other poems:
  1. Acknowledgement
  2. Dialogue
  3. On My Sister Joannas Entrance into Her 33rd Year
  4. To the Memory of Sarah Livingston
  5. To the Memory of Henry Welles Livingston


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