Jenny kissed me

I found this delightful little poem a few days ago, and promptly shared it with a young Iranian friend who loves English poetry and practically immerses herself in it. As luck would have it, she had already heard of this one, so I told her I would try a little harder to come up with something she had never seen before, and which would dazzle her. I think that little project is going to require some real effort on my part, but I don't mind.

Meanwhile, I think the poem in question is worth sharing with what few readers I have. The author of this piece is Leigh Hunt, a minor 18th-century English poet. It tickled my fancy not just for its intrinsic merit, but also because I happen to have a niece named Jenny, of whom I am very fond, and who has, in fact, kissed me a number of times.

"Jenny kissed 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 missed me;
Say I'm growing old, but add-
Jenny kissed me!"