Henry was buried with his family in the Poughkeepsie Rural Cemetery on Route 9. From his grave you can
see down to the river, where his father's house had been.
And in the Dutchess County Historical Society were the transcripts of Henry's poetry.
You could hear the tinkling of happy sleighbells as you read.
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 and butter
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If it were indeed true, as these poems suggested, that Henry was really the author of
that famous Christmas poem, then he, too, had been unfairly lost to the future. If I couldn't help
my father be remembered, and I couldn't help great grandfather, then maybe there was something I could
do for Henry Livingston.
At least it was worth a try.
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