poem index


Leigh Hunt

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by this poet

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 wealth have miss'd me,   
Say I'm growing old, but add,   
      Jenny kiss'd me.

To a Fish

You strange, astonished-looking, angle-faced,
   Dreary-mouthed, gaping wretches of the sea,
   Gulping salt-water everlastingly,
Cold-blooded, though with red your blood be graced,
And mute, though dwellers in the roaring waste;
   And you, all shapes beside, that

It flows through old hushed Egypt and its sands,
Like some grave mighty thought threading a dream,
And times and things, as in that vision, seem
Keeping along it their eternal stands,—
Caves, pillars, pyramids, the shepherd bands
That roamed through the young world, the glory extreme
Of high Sesostris, and that