• To Miss Catharine Ten Eyck



    Come and see our habitation,
    condescend to be our guest;

    Tho' the veins of warring nations
    Bleed, yet here secure we rest.


    By the light of Cynthia...

  • To Miss Edith M. Thomas

              Your Pegasus, Edith, is hitched to a star,

              While mine drags along a Sixth Avenue car;

              Yours bears you away to the far empyrean,

              Mine carries me down through the quarters plebeian.

              Now, soaring aloft, you stop at Antares,

              Call it home, that 's the place for...

  • To Miss H-and At Bath. Written extempore in the pump-room, 1742.

      SOON shall these bounteous springs thy wish bestow,

    Soon in each feature sprightly health shall glow;

    Thy eyes regain their fire, thy limbs their grace,

    And roses join the lilies in thy face.

    But say, sweet maid, what waters can remove

    The pangs of cold despair, of hopeless love?

    The deadly star which...

  • To Miss M. V. W



    Peggy, amidst domestic cares to rhyme

    I find no pleasure, and I find no time;

    But then, a Poetess, you may suppose,

    Can better tell her mind in verse than prose:

    True---when serenely all our moments roll,

    Then numbers flow spontaneous from the soul:

    Not when the mind is harrassed by cares,...

  • To Miss Ten Eyck II



    Dear Kitty, while you rove thro' sylvan bow'rs,

    Inhaling fragrance from salubrious flow'rs,

    Or view your blushes mant'ling in the stream,

    When Luna gilds it with her amber beam;

    The brazen voice of war awakes our fears,

    Impearling every damask cheek with tears.


    The savage, rushing down...

  • To Mr. Bleecker



    Yes, I invok'd the Muses' aid

    To help me write, for 'tis their trade;

    But only think, ungrateful Muses,

    They sent dame Iris with excuses,

    They'd other business for to follow,

    Beg'd I'd apply to God Apollo.


    The God said, as heav'n's charioteer,

    He had no time to mind us here...

  • To Mr. Bleecker, on his passage to New York



    Shall Fancy still pursue th' expanding sails,

    Calm Neptune's brow, or raise impelling gales?

    Or with her Bleecker, ply the lab'ring oar,

    When pleasing scenes invite him to the shore,

    There with him thro' the fading vallies rove,

    Blest in idea with the man I love?

    Methinks I see the broad...

  • To Mr. L-----



    The sun that gilds the western sky
    And makes the orient red,

    Whose gladsome rays delight the eye
    And cheer the lonely shade,


    Withdraws his...

  • To Mrs. D---



    Dear Betsey now Pleasure the woodland has left,
    Nor more in the water she laves,

    Since winter the trees of their bloom has bereft,
    And stiffen'd to crystal the waves....

  • To Mrs. Kean

            Of those fair characters the bards create,

                Round which thy genius added charms has thrown,

            Of those sweet natures thou dost personate,

                There is not one more lovely than thine own.