Night's deepest gloom is but a calm; that soothes the weary mind: The labored days restoring balm; the comfort of mankind. — Leigh Hunt Copy Share Image
Fail not to call to mind, in the course of the twenty-fifth of this month, that the Divinest Heart that ever walked the earth was born on that day; and then smile and enjoy yourselves for the rest of it;… — Leigh Hunt Copy Share Image
Oh for a seat in some poetic nook, Just hid with trees and sparkling with a brook! — Leigh Hunt Copy Share Image
Jenny kissed me when we met, Jumping from the chair she sat in; Time, you thief, who love to get Sweets into your list,… — Leigh Hunt Copy Share Image
With spots of sunny openings, and with nooks To lie and read in, sloping into brooks. — Leigh Hunt Copy Share Image
We are violets blue, For our sweetness found Careless in the mossy shades, Looking on the ground. Love's dropp'd eyelids and a kiss,-- Such… — Leigh Hunt Copy Share Image
If you are melancholy for the first time, you will find, upon a little inquiry, that others have been melancholy many times, and yet… — Leigh Hunt Copy Share Image
Affection, like melancholy, magnifies trifles; but the magnifying of the one is like looking through a telescope at heavenly objects; that of the other,… — Leigh Hunt Copy Share Image
The person who can be only serious or only cheerful, is but half a man. — Leigh Hunt Copy Share Image
