Poems begining by H
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Horace The Wise
© Franklin Pierce Adams
Tee hee! I must laugh when I think of his finish,
Not wise to your ways and your rep.
Ha! ha! how his fancy for you will diminish!
I know, for I'm Jonathan Hep.
Hepaticas
© Madison Julius Cawein
In the frail hepaticas,-
That the early Springtide tossed,
Sapphire-like, along the ways
Of the woodlands that she crossed,-
I behold, with other eyes,
Footprints of a dream that flies.
Hay
© Ted Hughes
The grass is happy
To run like the sea, to be glossed like a minks fur
By polishing wind.
Her heart is the weather.
She loves nobody
Least of all the farmer who leans on the gate.
Hope Is Not For The Wise
© Robinson Jeffers
Hope is not for the wise, fear is for fools;
Change and the world, we think, are racing to a fall,
Hornets
© Padraic Colum
How strangely like a churchyard skull
The thing that's there amongst the leaves!
Hackelnberg
© Madison Julius Cawein
When down the Hartz the echoes swarm
He rides beneath the sounding storm
Homage To Sextus Propertius - IX
© Ezra Pound
1
The twisted rhombs ceased their clamour of accompaniment;
The scorched laurel lay in the fire-dust;
The moon still declined to descend out of heaven,
Hearts Encouragement
© Madison Julius Cawein
Nor time nor all his minions
Of sorrow or of pain,
Shall dash with vulture pinions
The cup she fills again
Within the dream-dominions
Of life where she doth reign.
How Mary Grew
© John Greenleaf Whittier
With wisdom far beyond her years,
And graver than her wondering peers,
So strong, so mild, combining still
The tender heart and queenly will,
To conscience and to duty true,
So, up from childhood, Mary Grew!
Hymns to the Night : 6 : Longing for Death
© Novalis
Blessed be the everlasting Night,
And blessed the endless slumber.
We are heated by the day too bright,
And withered up with care.
We're weary of a life abroad,
And we now want our Father's home.
Holy Baptism
© John Keble
Where is it mothers learn their love? -
In every Church a fountain springs
O'er which th' Eternal Dove
Hovers out softest wings.
Here a riddle has drawn a strange nailmark
© Boris Pasternak
Here a riddle has drawn a strange nailmark. To sleep now!
I'll reread, understand with the light of the sun,
But until I am wakened, to touch the beloved
As I do has been given to none.
Horace, Epist. I, VII Imitation Of Horace To Lord Oxford
© Jonathan Swift
Harley, the nation's great support,
Returning home one day from court,
His mind with public cares possest,
All Europe's business in his breast,
Humbled And Silenced By Mercy
© John Newton
Once perishing in blood I lay,
Creatures no help could give,
But Jesus passed me in the way,
He saw, and bid me live.
Help
© Franklin Pierce Adams
Come, live with us and be our cook,
And we will all the whimsies brook
That German, Irish, Swede, and Slav
And all the dear domestics have.
Haunted
© Madison Julius Cawein
When grave the twilight settles o'er my roof,
And from the haggard oaks unto my door
