Poems begining by H
/ page 21 of 105 /Her Portrait
© Jean Blewett
A little child, she stood that far-off day,
When Love, the master-painter, took the brush
Heaven
© Virna Sheard
Not with the haloed saints would Heaven be
For such as I;
Who have not reached to their serenity
So sweet and high.
Have The Lily
© Eli Siegel
It is a world of space and fritters,
Somehow with us all day long;
A world mad of softs and bitters,
With angles in a pretty song.
"He has a fairy wife"
© Lesbia Harford
He has a fairy wife.
He does not know her.
She is the heart of the storm,
Of the clouds that lower.
Heads And Tails
© Franklin Pierce Adams
If a single man is studious and quiet, people say
He is grouchy, he is old before his time;
If he's frivolous and flippant, if he treads the primrose way,
Then they mark him for a wild career of crime.
Hiroshima Child
© Nazim Hikmet
I come and stand at every door
But none can hear my silent tread
I knock and yet remain unseen
For I am dead for I am dead
Hormigas
© Ramon Lopez Velarde
A la cálida vida que transcurre canora
con garbo de mujer sin letras ni antifaces,
a la invicta belleza que salva y que enamora,
responde, en la embriaguez de la encantada hora,
un encono de hormigas en mis venas voraces.
How few are we. Probably three...
© Boris Pasternak
How few are we. Probably three
In all-coallike, burning, infernal
Beneath the grey bark of the tree
Of wisdom, and clouds, and eternal
Debate on verse, transport, the part
The army will play-and on art.
Hymne
© Victor Marie Hugo
Ceux qui pieusement sont morts pour la patrie
Ont droit qu'à leur cercueil la foule vienne et prie.
Entre les plus beaux noms leur nom est le plus beau.
Toute gloire près d'eux passe et tombe éphémère ;
Et, comme ferait une mère,
La voix d'un peuple entier les berce en leur tombeau !
Half An Hour Before Supper
© Francis Bret Harte
"So she's here, your unknown Dulcinea, the lady you met on the train,
And you really believe she would know you if you were to meet her
again?"
Homage To Sextus Propertius - VII
© Ezra Pound
While our fates twine together, sate we our eyes with love;
For long night comes upon you
and a day when no day returns.
Let the gods lay chains upon us
so that no day shall unbind them.
Hoodoo
© Madison Julius Cawein
She mutters and stoops by the lone bayou--
The little green leaves are hushed on the trees--
Haven Woones Fortune A-Twold
© William Barnes
In leäne the gipsies, as we went
A-milkèn, had a-pitch'd their tent,
Hunger
© Arthur Rimbaud
Beneath the bush a wolf will howl, Spitting bright feathers
From his feast of fowl: Like him, I devour myself.
Waiting to be gathered, Fruits and grasses spend their hours;
The spider spinning in the hedge, Eats only flowers.
Let me sleep! Let me boil, On the altars of Solomon;
Let me soak the rusty soil, And flow into Kendron.
He Mourned His Master
© Henry Lawson
But soon their forms had vanished all,
And night came down the ranges faster,
And no one saw the shadows fall
Upon the dog that mourned his master.
Heedless O My Love
© William Barnes
Oh! I vu'st know'd o' my true love,
As the bright moon up above,
Holy Communion
© John Keble
O God of Mercy, God of Might,
How should pale sinners bear the sight,
If, as Thy power in surely here,
Thine open glory should appear?
Home
© Johannes Carsten Hauch
I remember a far place, where I would gladly be;
There, hours glided slowly, silently,
As clear as silver pearls, strung on a golden wire,
And gentle as the words of first desire.
Hope
© Thomas Campbell
At summer eve, when heaven's aerial bow
Spans with bright arch the glittering hills below,