Poems begining by H
/ page 103 of 105 /Had I known that the first was the last
© Emily Dickinson
Had I known that the first was the last
I should have kept it longer.
Had I known that the last was the first
I should have drunk it stronger.
"Houses" -- so the Wise Men tell me
© Emily Dickinson
"Houses" -- so the Wise Men tell me --
"Mansions"! Mansions must be warm!
Mansions cannot let the tears in,
Mansions must exclude the storm!
"Heaven" has different Signs -- to me --
© Emily Dickinson
"Heaven" has different Signs -- to me --
Sometimes, I think that Noon
Is but a symbol of the Place --
And when again, at Dawn,
How soft this Prison is
© Emily Dickinson
How soft this Prison is
How sweet these sullen bars
No Despot but the King of Down
Invented this repose
How soft a Caterpillar steps --
© Emily Dickinson
How soft a Caterpillar steps --
I fond one on my Hand
From such a velvet world it comes
Such plushes at command
How lonesome the Wind must feel Nights --
© Emily Dickinson
How lonesome the Wind must feel Nights --
When people have put out the Lights
And everything that has an Inn
Closes the shutter and goes in --
How Human Nature dotes
© Emily Dickinson
How Human Nature dotes
On what it can't detect.
The moment that a Plot is plumbed
Prospective is extinct --
How brittle are the Piers
© Emily Dickinson
How brittle are the Piers
On which our Faith doth tread --
No Bridge below doth totter so --
Yet none hath such a Crowd.
Hope is a strange invention --
© Emily Dickinson
Hope is a strange invention --
A Patent of the Heart --
In unremitting action
Yet never wearing out --
His Heart was darker than the starless night
© Emily Dickinson
His Heart was darker than the starless night
For that there is a morn
But in this black Receptacle
Can be no Bode of Dawn
Her face was in a bed of hair,
© Emily Dickinson
Her face was in a bed of hair,
Like flowers in a plot --
Her hand was whiter than the sperm
That feeds the sacred light.
Heaven is so far of the Mind
© Emily Dickinson
Heaven is so far of the Mind
That were the Mind dissolved --
The Site -- of it -- by Architect
Could not again be proved --
Heart, not so heavy as mine
© Emily Dickinson
Heart, not so heavy as mine
Wending late home --
As it passed my window
Whistled itself a tune --
He who in Himself believes --
© Emily Dickinson
He who in Himself believes --
Fraud cannot presume --
Faith is Constancy's Result --
And assumes -- from Home --
Have you got a Brook in your little heart,
© Emily Dickinson
Have you got a Brook in your little heart,
Where bashful flowers blow,
And blushing birds go down to drink,
And shadows tremble so --
Her breast is fit for pearls,
© Emily Dickinson
Her breast is fit for pearls,
But I was not a "Diver" --
Her brow is fit for thrones
But I have not a crest.
Her -- "last Poems"
© Emily Dickinson
Her -- "last Poems" --
Poets -- ended --
Silver -- perished -- with her Tongue --
Not on Record -- bubbled other,
He put the Belt around my life
© Emily Dickinson
He put the Belt around my life
I heard the Buckle snap --
And turned away, imperial,
My Lifetime folding up --
He fumbles at your Soul
© Emily Dickinson
He fumbles at your Soul
As Players at the Keys
Before they drop full Music on --
He stuns you by degrees --
"Heavenly Father" -- take to thee
© Emily Dickinson
"Heavenly Father" -- take to thee
The supreme iniquity
Fashioned by thy candid Hand
In a moment contraband --