Poems begining by H
/ page 19 of 105 /
Her Face And Brow
© James Whitcomb Riley
Ah, help me! but her face and brow
Are lovelier than lilies are
Husband And Wife
© Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon
The world had chafed his spirit proud
By its wearing, crushing strife,
The censure of the thoughtless crowd
Had touched a blameless life;
Like the dove of old, from the waters foam,
He wearily turned to the ark of home.
Hunting Of The Snark: Preface
© Lewis Carroll
If--and the thing is wildly possible--t he charge of writing
nonsense were ever brought against the author of this brief but
instructive poem, it would be based, I feel convinced, on the line
Hymn to the North Star
© William Cullen Bryant
The sad and solemn night
Hath yet her multitude of cheerful fires;
The glorious host of light
Walk the dark hemisphere till she retires;
All through her silent watches, gliding slow,
Her constellations come, and climb the heavens, and go.
Her Hair
© James Whitcomb Riley
The beauty of her hair bewilders me--
Pouring adown the brow, its cloven tide
Here will I take my rest
© Shams al-Din Hafiz
My lady, that did change this house of mine
Into a heaven when that she dwelt therein,
From head to foot an angel's grace divine
Enwrapped her; pure she was, spotless of sin;
Hymns to the Night : 1
© Novalis
Before all the wondrous shows of the widespread space around him, what living, sentient thing loves not the all-joyous light - with its colors, its rays and undulations, its gentle omnipresence in the form of the wakening Day? The giant-world of the unresting constellations inhales it as the innermost soul of life, and floats dancing in its blue flood - the sparkling, ever-tranquil stone, the thoughtful, imbibing plant, and the wild, burning multiform beast inhales it - but more than all, the lordly stranger with the sense-filled eyes, the swaying walk, and the sweetly closed, melodious lips. Like a king over earthly nature, it rouses every force to countless transformations, binds and unbinds innumerable alliances, hangs its heavenly form around every earthly substance. - Its presence alone reveals the marvelous splendor of the kingdoms of the world.
Aside I turn to the holy, unspeakable, mysterious Night. Afar lies the world - sunk in a deep grave - waste and lonely is its place. In the chords of the bosom blows a deep sadness. I am ready to sink away in drops of dew, and mingle with the ashes. - The distances of memory, the wishes of youth, the dreams of childhood, the brief joys and vain hopes of a whole long life, arise in gray garments, like an evening vapor after the sunset. In other regions the light has pitched its joyous tents. What if it should never return to its children, who wait for it with the faith of innocence?
Holy Cussing by Robert Morgan: American Life in Poetry #47 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate 2004-2006
© Ted Kooser
The poet, novelist and biographer, Robert Morgan, who was raised in North Carolina, has written many intriguing poems that teach his readers about southern folklore. Here's just one example.
Holy Cussing
Heap High the Golden Corn
© John Greenleaf Whittier
Heap high the farmer's wintry hoard!
Heap high the golden corn !
No richer gift has Autumn poured
From out her lavish horn !
Hero And Leander: The Second Sestiad
© Christopher Marlowe
By this, sad Hero, with love unacquainted,
Viewing Leander's face, fell down and fainted.
He is more than a hero
© Sappho
He is more than a hero
he is a god in my eyes-
the man who is allowed
to sit beside you - he
Hindrances
© Jeremy Taylor
He that will sow his field with hopefull seed,
Must every bramble, every thistle weed;
And when each hindrance to the graine is gone,
A fruitfull crop shall rise of corn alone.
Homo Sum
© Robert Crawford
The hearts of men are like mine,
therefore
it must laugh and weep with them.
How The Fire Queen Crossed The Swamp
© William Henry Ogilvie
The flood was down in the Wilga swamps, three feet over the mud,
And the teamsters camped on the Wilga range and swore at the rising flood;
For one by one they had tried the trip, double and treble teams,
And one after one each desert-ship had dropped to her axle-beams;
So they thonged their leaders and pulled them round to the camp on the sandhill's crown,
And swore by the bond of a blood-red oath to wait till the floods went down.
Hymn Written For The Great Central Fair In Philadelphia, 1864
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
FATHER, send on Earth again
Peace and good-will to men;
Yet, while the weary track of life
Leads thy people through storm and strife,
Help us to walk therein.
Hawaiian
© Padraic Colum
SANDALWOOD, you say, and in your thoughts it chimes
With Tyre and Solomon; to me it rhymes
With places bare upon Pacific mountains,
With spaces empty in the minds of men.
How Do You Tackle Your Work?
© Edgar Albert Guest
How do you tackle your work each day?
Are you scared of the job you find?
Hyperion's Song Of Destiny
© Friedrich Hölderlin
Holy spirits, you walk up there
in the light, on soft earth.
Hymn of The Dunkers
© John Greenleaf Whittier
Wake, sisters, wake! the day-star shines;
Above Ephrata's eastern pines
The dawn is breaking, cool and calm.
Wake, sisters, wake to prayer and psalm!
