Poems begining by H
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Huge Vapours Brood Above the Clifted Shore
© Charlotte Turner Smith
Huge vapours brood above the clifted shore,
Night o'er the ocean settles, dark and mute,
Happy As The Day Is Long
© James Tate
I take the long walk up the staircase to my secret room.
Today's big news: they found Amelia Earhart's shoe, size 9.
Hymn to the Spirit of Nature
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
LIFE of Life! thy lips enkindle
With their love the breath between them;
And thy smiles before they dwindle
Make the cold air fire: then screen them
In those locks where whoso gazes 5
Faints entangled in their mazes.
Hamd
© Tanwir Phool
Tiri Qudrat ko yaa Rab ! zarray zarray sey a'yaaN dekhaa
Qamar maiN ,shams maiN ,anjum maiN Tujh ko zaufishaaN dekhaa
His Excuse for Loving
© Benjamin Jonson
Let it not your wonder move,
Less your laughter, that I love.
His Wish To God
© Robert Herrick
I would to God, that mine old age might have
Before my last, but here a living grave;
His Prayer To Ben Jonson
© Robert Herrick
When I a verse shall make,
Know I have pray'd thee,
For old religion's sake,
Saint Ben to aid me.
His Prayer For Absolution
© Robert Herrick
For those my unbaptized rhymes,
Writ in my wild unhallowed times,
Hence, All You Vain Delights from the Nice Valour
© John Gould Fletcher
Hence, all you vain delights,
As short as are the nights
Heri Cras Hodie
© Ralph Waldo Emerson
SHINES the last age the next with hope is seen
To-day slinks poorly off unmarked between:
Future or Past no richer secret folds
O friendless Present! than thy bosom holds.
Hero
© Williams Ian
the hero winsbecause that's what heros do when you spendthe money to buy the DVD of a movie you alreadyknow the ending to, not because you’ve seen it beforebut because you heard from a colleague in HRthat it would make you feel real good after,it was the best thing she’s seen lately, and that’swith her being married and every morning pushing spoonsinto the faces of her two children
so you watch itknowing the only thing that will make you feel goodthis evening is seeing a bare-chested man wail on anotherin a ring and another in a street and another in a ringin slow-mo and the dff dff sounds of the gloves strikingbodies in movies, which don’t sound like bodies for real,not that you’d admit to knowing that,
and the herodoesn’t even look like heroes in the real worldwhich are not the heroes in grade four essays eitherbut like (stay with me) this one time you dropped by a woman’s placeand you were sitting at her kitchen table and she asked youif you wanted anything to drink and she opened the fridgeand you saw through the crack between her bodyand the door only a pitcher of water on the wire shelfin the yellow light—
you want to call her a herobecause she’s surviving with her mouth shutor yourself because you’re so affected must meanyou’re noble
He will tell me later the story of the woman he has been alluding to all day
© Williams Ian
because it takes three hours and gives him the blues badso not now, not now, later, he promises, then falls asleepon my couch, shrugging his upper lip like a horse
Happie is he that from a faire voyáge
© Thorley Wilfred Charles
Happie is he that from a faire voyáge Comes home as came the travell'd Ulysses Or him that raped the fleece, wayworn, in easeWith his owne kindred to live out hys age
How Do I Love Thee?
© Elizabeth Barrett Browning
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
Here Lies Poor Nick
© Smith Sydney
Here lies poor Nick, an honest creature,Of faithful, gentle, courteous nature;A parlour pet unspoil'd by favour,A pattern of good dog behaviour
Humouresque
© Arthur James Marshall Smith
HeHad alwaysBeen a lucky one:The girl he lovedRefused him, so he alwaysKept her fresh-eyed beautySafe from ravagings of Time,And lived with her in one closeCorner of his brain, and kissed her lips,And pale white hands, and dreamy hair
