Across the page of spotless white— J. S. Ogilvie
Friends trail the pen, and in our sight
Grow precious all the lines they write.
As for some white-sailed ship at sea,
So, little book, my watch for thee;
Return with freight of love to me.
Jenny kissed me when we met,— Leigh Hunt
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 missed me,
Say I’m growing old, but add,
Jenny kissed me.