Henry Livingston

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.