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

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  • Priyanka baherjee (8/18/2019 9:31:00 AM)

    Very nice about it

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  • Sandy Sorbello (4/15/2019 4:49:00 AM)

    I had to memorize that poem in Junior high. I think it was 8th grade. I still remember the first few lines. That would never be allowed in schools today. Can’t mention the Lord and angels.

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  • Jhoot (2/28/2019 8:45:00 AM)

    Hote h h few u kg

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  • Sriparna Bal (1/7/2019 8:33:00 AM)

    I read the poem About Ben Adhem
    It is a nice poem
    I really like it

    1 person liked.
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  • Priti Yadav (1/28/2018 2:57:00 AM)

    JH Leigh Hunt in Poem

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  • Carol Linden (8/24/2013 9:31:00 AM)

    My step-father Tom Austin related a lovely memory about this poem. He was raised in a small Alabama mining town in the 1920's. His father died young, when Tom was a mere boy. One of his vivid memories of his father is miners gathered around the wood stove in a country store and listening to his father recite Abou Ben Adhem from memory. Tom could remember only the first two lines, but he never forgot the image of that scene, one of his few memories of his father. I can imagine small towns throughout America, perhaps the Scotch-Irish South in particuar, and even the Brisith Ises with similar scenes of poems being enjoyed through the oral tradition.

    7 person liked.
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  • Mike Fine (10/10/2009 3:34:00 PM)

    I read the poem 'Abou Ben Adhem 65 years ago and found it to be the greatest..........Always felt it was written for and about me.....Mike Fine

    21 person liked.
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  • Kerry Bartake (6/28/2009 3:55:00 PM)

    I find the poem, 'The Glove and the Lions', very amusing because human nature never really changes through the centuries. Here we have the arrogant, beautiful woman who is all wrapped up in herself and, refreshingly, we have the sensible hero who discerns that his girlfriend has serious flaws. We can all relate to this! Remember the song from about ten years ago, 'She ain't pretty, she just looks that way! '

    25 person liked.
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Best Poem of James Henry Leigh Hunt

An Angel In The House

How sweet it were, if without feeble fright,
Or dying of the dreadful beauteous sight,
An angel came to us, and we could bear
To see him issue from the silent air
At evening in our room, and bend on ours
His divine eyes, and bring us from his bowers
News of dear friends, and children who have never
Been dead indeed,--as we shall know forever.
Alas! we think not what we daily see
About our hearths,--angels that are to be,
Or may be if they will, and we prepare
Their souls and ours to meet in happy air;--
A child, a friend, a wife whose soft heart ...

Read the full of An Angel In The House

Robin Hood, A Child.

It was the pleasant season yet,
When the stones at cottage doors
Dry quickly, while the roads are wet,
After the silver showers.

The green leaves they looked greener still,
And the thrush, renewing his tune,
Shook a loud note from his gladsome bill
Into the bright blue noon.