Rondeau

Jenny kiss'd me when we met,
Jumping from the chair she sat in;
Time, you thief, who love to get
Sweets into your list, put that in!
Say I'm weary, say I'm sad,
Say that health and welth have miss'd me,
Say I'm growing old, but add,
Jenny kiss'd me.

James Henry Leigh Hunt

James Henry Leigh Hunt was an English critic, essayist, and poet, born on October 19, 1784, in Southgate, London. He was a central figure of the Romantic movement and is best known for his poems 'Jenny Kissed Me' and 'Abou Ben Adhem.' Hunt also co-founded the influential literary periodical, 'The Examiner', in 1808. He had a significant impact on his contemporaries, including John Keats and Percy Bysshe Shelley. Hunt passed away on August 28, 1859, in Putney, London.

James Henry Leigh Hunt

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James Henry Leigh Hunt, Simple Poetry

English

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Jenny Kissed Me

Jenny kissed me when we met,
Jumping from the chair she sat in;
Time, you thief, who love to get
Sweets into your list, put that in!
Say Im weary, say Im sad,
Say that health and wealth have missed me,
Say Im growing old, but add,
Jenny kissed me.

James Henry Leigh Hunt

Song

A bee that was searching for sweets one day
Through the gate of a rose garden happened to stray.
In the heart of a rose he hid away,
And forgot in his bliss the light of day,
As sipping his honey he buzzed in song;
Though day was waning, he lingered long,
For the rose was sweet, so sweet.

A robin sits pluming his ruddy breast,
And a madrigal sings to his love in her nest:
"Oh, the skies they are blue, the fields are green,
And the birds in your nest will soon be seen!"
She hangs on his words with a thrill of love,
And chirps to him as he sits above
For the song is sweet, so sweet.

A maiden was out on a summer's day
With the winds and the waves and the flowers at play;
And she met with a youth of gentle air,
With the light of the sunshine on hi...

Paul Laurence Dunbar

Serenade.

("Quand tu chantes.")


When the voice of thy lute at the eve
        Charmeth the ear,
In the hour of enchantment believe
        What I murmur near.
That the tune can the Age of Gold
        With its magic restore.
Play on, play on, my fair one,
        Play on for evermore.

When thy laugh like the song of the dawn
        Riseth so gay
That the shadows of Night are withdrawn
        And melt away,
I remember my years of care
        And misgiving no more.
Laugh on, laugh on, my fair one,
        Laugh on for evermore.

When thy sleep like the moonlight above
        Lulling the sea,
Doth enwind thee in visions of love,
        Perchance, of me!
I can watch so in dream that enthralled me,
        Neve...

Victor-Marie Hugo

Kiss In The Rain, A

One stormy morn I chanced to meet
    A lassie in the town;
Her locks were like the ripened wheat,
    Her laughing eyes were brown.
I watched her as she tripped along
    Till madness filled my brain,
And then, and then, I know 'twas wrong,
    I kissed her in the rain!

With rain-drops shining on her cheek,
    Like dew-drops on a rose,
The little lassie strove to speak
    My boldness to oppose;
She strove in vain, and quivering
    Her fingers stole in mine;
And then the birds began to sing,
    The sun began to shine.

Oh, let the clouds grow dark above,
    My heart is light below;
'Tis always summer when we love,
    However winds may blow;
And I'm as proud as any prince,
    All honors I disdain:
She says I am he...

Samuel Minturn Peck

The Rose

Beneath my chamber window
Pierrot was singing, singing;
I heard his lute the whole night thru
Until the east was red.
Alas, alas Pierrot,
I had no rose for flinging
Save one that drank my tears for dew
Before its leaves were dead.

I found it in the darkness,
I kissed it once and threw it,
The petals scattered over him,
His song was turned to joy;
And he will never know,
Alas, the one who knew it!
The rose was plucked when dusk was dim
Beside a laughing boy.

Sara Teasdale

That Night

You and I, and that night, with its perfume and glory! -
    The scent of the locusts - the light of the moon;
And the violin weaving the waltzers a story,
    Enmeshing their feet in the weft of the tune,
    Till their shadows uncertain
    Reeled round on the curtain,
    While under the trellis we drank in the June.

Soaked through with the midnight the cedars were sleeping,
    Their shadowy tresses outlined in the bright
Crystal, moon-smitten mists, where the fountain's heart, leaping
    Forever, forever burst, full with delight;
    And its lisp on my spirit
    Fell faint as that near it
    Whose love like a lily bloomed out in the night.

O your glove was an odorous sachet of blisses!
    The breath of your fan was a breeze from Cathay!
An...

James Whitcomb Riley