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Poem by Henry Livingston

To My Little Niece Sally Livingston

To my little niece Sally Livingston, on the death of a little serenading wren she admired.

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 oer
Never will thy chirpings more
Soothe the heavy heart of care
Or dispel the darkness there.
I have known thee eer the sun
Hath on yonder mountain shone;
Eer 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 listning ear,
Dissipation stopd a while,
Grief was even seen to smile,
Ambition - but the gushing tear
Oerwhelms the stone and stops me here.

Henry Livingston

Henry Livingston's other poems:
  1. Acknowledgement
  2. On My Sister Joannas Entrance into Her 33rd Year
  3. Dialogue
  4. The Procession
  5. An Elegy on the Death of Montgomery Tappen

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