Poems begining by H
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Hawke
© Sir Henry Newbolt
In seventeen hundred and fifty-nine,
When Hawke came swooping from the West,
Human Family
© Maya Angelou
I note the obvious differences
in the human family.
Some of us are serious,
some thrive on comedy.
Her Picture
© Thomas Moore
Go then, if she, whose shade thou art,
No more will let thee soothe my pain;
Yet, tell her, it has cost this heart
Some pangs, to give thee back again.
Horace I, 31.
© Eugene Field
As forth he pours the new made wine,
What blessing asks the lyric poet--
What boon implores in this fair shrine
Of one full likely to bestow it?
Hail, Twilight, Sovereign Of One Peaceful Hour
© William Wordsworth
HAIL Twilight, sovereign of one peaceful hour!
Not dull art Thou as undiscerning Night;
But studious only to remove from sight
Day's mutable distinctions.--Ancient Power!
Her Waiting Face
© James Whitcomb Riley
In some strange place
Of long-lost lands he finds her waiting face--
Comes marveling upon it, unaware,
Set moonwise in the midnight of her hair.
His Wedded Wife
© Rudyard Kipling
Cry "Murder" in the market-place, and each
Will turn upon his neighbour anxious eyes
Asking: "Art thou the man?" We hunted Cain
Some centuries ago across the world.
This bred the fear our own misdeeds maintain
To-day.
Holiday
© Robert Laurence Binyon
Through Ebblesborne and Broad--Chalke
The narrow river runs,
Dimples with dark November rains,
Flashes in April suns.
His Other Chance
© Edgar Albert Guest
He was down and out, and his pluck was gone,
And he said to me in a gloomy way:
Hesperides
© Thomas Bailey Aldrich
If thy soul, Herrick, dwelt with me,
This is what my songs would be:
Hymn XIV: Happy the Man That Finds the Grace
© Charles Wesley
Happy the man that finds the grace,
The blessing of God's chosen race,
The wisdom coming from above,
The faith that sweetly works by love.
He Was Acquainted With Grief
© Jones Very
I cannot tell the sorrows that I feel
By the night's darkness, by the prison's gloom;
Hawaii
© Padraic Colum
II
I call on you, beloved
Breast so cold, so cold!
Oh, so cold, I have to say
I ku anu el
Hyperion. Book I
© John Keats
Deep in the shady sadness of a vale
Far sunken from the healthy breath of morn,
Hudibras: Part 1 - Canto I
© Samuel Butler
His doublet was of sturdy buff,
And tho' not sword, yet cudgel-proof;
Whereby 'twas fitter for his use,
Who fear'd no blows, but such as bruise.
Holy Communion
© Ada Cambridge
Father, for Jesus' sake,
Low at the footstool of Thy throne, I pray
That Thou, into Thine arms of love, to-day
My trembling soul wilt take.
