Henry Leigh

Henry Sambrooke Leigh was a British writer, dramatist, and humorous poet born on March 29, 1837. He was known for his witty and satirical style, contributing to various periodicals of his time. One of his notable works includes 'Carols of Cockayne' published in 1869. Leigh also had a successful career in theatre, contributing to the adaptation of various plays. He passed away on December 16, 1883. Despite his contributions, much of his work remains lesser-known today.

March 29, 1837

December 16, 1883

English

Henry Leigh

Maud

Nay, I cannot come into the garden just now,
    Tho' it vexes me much to refuse:
But I must have the next set of waltzes, I vow,
    With Lieutenant de Boots of the Blues.

I am sure you'll be heartily pleas'd when you hear
    That our ball has been quite a success.
As for me, I've been looking a monster, my dear.
    In that old-fashion'd guy of a dress.

You had better at once hurry home, dear, to bed;
    It is getting so dreadfully late.
You may catch the bronchitis or cold in the head
    If you linger so long at our gate.

Don't be obstinate, Alfy; come, take my advice,
    For I know you're in want of repose:
Take a basin of gruel (you'll find it so nice),
    And remember to tallow your nose.

No, I tell you I can't ...

Henry Leigh

My Love And My Heart

Oh, the days were ever shiny
    When I ran to meet my love;
When I press'd her hand so tiny
    Through her tiny tiny glove.
Was I very deeply smitten?
    Oh, I loved like anything!
But my love she is a kitten,
    And my heart's a ball of string.

She was pleasingly poetic,
    And she loved my little rhymes;
For our tastes were sympathetic,
    In the old and happy times.
Oh, the ballads I have written,
    And have taught my love to sing!
But my love she is a kitten,
    And my heart's a ball of string.

Would she listen to my offer,
    On my knees I would impart
A sincere and ready proffer
    Of my hand and of my heart.
And below her dainty mitten
    I would fix a wedding ring,
But my love she is a kitten...

Henry Leigh

Twins, The

In form and feature, face and limb,
    I grew so like my brother,
That folks got taking me for him,
    And each for one another.
It puzzled all our kith and kin,
    It reach'd an awful pitch;
For one of us was born a twin,
    Yet not a soul knew which.

One day (to make the matter worse),
    Before our names were fix'd,
As we were being wash'd by nurse
    We got completely mix'd;
And thus, you see, by Fate's decree,
    (Or rather nurse's whim),
My brother John got christen'd me,
    And I got christen'd him.

This fatal likeness even dogg'd
    My footsteps when at school,
And I was always getting flogg'd,
    For John turned out a fool.
I put this question hopelessly
    To every one I knew,
What

Henry Leigh