James Henry Leigh Hunt

(19 October 1784 – 28 August 1859 / Southgate, London)

James Henry Leigh Hunt Poems

1. Walcheren Expedition 4/16/2010
2. To A Child During Sickness 1/6/2015
3. To John Keats 4/16/2010
4. To Robert Batty, M.D., On His Giving Me A Lock Of Milton's Hair 12/31/2002
5. The Olive Of Peace 4/16/2010
6. Ariadne Waking 5/8/2012
7. The Plate Of Gold 4/16/2010
8. To The Grasshopper And The Cricket 12/31/2002
9. To A Fish 12/31/2002
10. On The Same (On Receiving A Crown Of Ivy From Keats) 4/16/2010
11. The Field Of Battle 4/16/2010
12. Bellman's Verses For 1814 4/16/2010
13. Bacchus And Ariadne 5/6/2011
14. Sudden Fine Weather 12/31/2002
15. Robin Hood's Flight 12/31/2002
16. A Thought Or Two On Reading Pomfret's 1/3/2003
17. The Negro Boy 12/31/2002
18. How Robin And His Outlaws Lived In The Woods 12/31/2002
19. On Receiving A Crown Of Ivy From John Keats 12/31/2002
20. A Fish Answers 12/31/2002
21. Song Of Fairies Robbing An Orchard 12/31/2002
22. The Glove And The Lions 12/31/2002
23. May And The Poets 1/3/2003
24. A Thought Of The Nile 12/31/2002
25. Robin Hood, A Child. 12/31/2002
26. Rondeau 12/31/2002
27. Robin Hood, An Outlaw. 12/31/2002
28. Death 1/3/2003
29. The Nile 12/31/2002
30. An Angel In The House 1/3/2003
31. A Night-Rain In Summer 1/3/2003
32. Jenny Kissed Me 1/13/2003
33. Abou Ben Adhem 1/13/2003
Best Poem of James Henry Leigh Hunt

Abou Ben Adhem

Abou Ben Adhem (may his tribe increase!)
Awoke one night from a deep dream of peace,
And saw, within the moonlight in his room,
Making it rich, and like a lily in bloom,
An angel writing in a book of gold:—
Exceeding peace had made Ben Adhem bold,
And to the Presence in the room he said
"What writest thou?"—The vision raised its head,
And with a look made of all sweet accord,
Answered "The names of those who love the Lord."
"And is mine one?" said Abou. "Nay, not so,"
Replied the angel. Abou spoke more low,
But cheerly still, and said "I pray ...

Read the full of Abou Ben Adhem

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 fishy be,--
Some round, some flat, some long, all devilry,
Legless, unloving, infamously chaste:--

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