Poems begining by H
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Henry King,{ Who chewed bits of String, and was cut off in Dreadful Agonies}
© Hilaire Belloc
The Chief Defect of Henry King
Was chewing little bits of String.
At last he swallowed some which tied
Itself in ugly Knots inside.
How Long?
© Katharine Lee Bates
How long, O Prince of Peace, how long? We sicken of the shame
Of this wild war that wraps the world, a roaring dragon-flame
Honourable Employment
© John Webster
O my lord, lie not idle:
The chiefest action for a man of great spirit
Hebe
© Letitia Elizabeth Landon
YOUTH! thou art a lovely time,
With thy wild and dreaming eyes;
Looking onwards to their prime,
Coloured by their April skies,
Yet I do not wish for thee,
Pass, oh! quickly pass from me.
How to Make a Memory
© Robert Laurence Binyon
The rain was ending, and light
Lifting the leaden skies.
It shone upon ceiling and floor
And dazzled a childs eyes.
Hope
© Gamaliel Bradford
When I was a little boy,
I followed hope and slighted joy.
Now my wit has larger scope,
I clutch at joy and heed not hope.
Heat
© Madison Julius Cawein
Within its channel glares the creek and shrinks,
Beneath whose rocks the furtive crawfish hides
In stagnant places, where the green frog blinks,
And water-spider glides.
How the Leopard Got His Spots
© Rudyard Kipling
I am the Most Wise Baviaan, saying in Most wise tones,
"Let us melt into the landscape - just us two by our lones."
Holger Drachmann
© Jeppe Aakjaer
Under Stranden gaar en ensom Ridder,
Kappen flagrer i den kaade Blæst;
Hymn Of The Children
© John Greenleaf Whittier
Thine are all the gifts, O God!
Thine the broken bread;
Let the naked feet be shod,
And the starving fed.
Human Life
© Samuel Rogers
An hour like this is worth a thousand passed
In pomp or ease - 'Tis present to the last!
Years glide away untold - 'Tis still the same!
As fresh, as fair as on the day it came!
Hymn for Atonement Day
© Yehudah HaLevi
Lord, Your humble servants hear,
Suppliant now before You,
Our Father, from Your children's plea
Turn not, we implore You!
Hesperia
© Algernon Charles Swinburne
OUT OF the golden remote wild west where the sea without shore is,
Full of the sunset, and sad, if at all, with the fulness of joy,
Ho Chih-chang
© Li Po
When we met the first time at Chang-an
He called me the Lost Immortal.
Then he loved the Way of Forgetting.
Now under the pine-trees he is dust.
His golden keepsake bought us wine.
Remembering, the tears run down my cheeks.
Heather Ale: A Galloway Legend
© Robert Louis Stevenson
FROM the bonny bells of heather
They brewed a drink long-syne,
His Lady Of The Sonnets XXIV
© Robert Norwood
Down in the valley shines a scimiter
A stream with autumn-gold deep damascened;
And of the bards of day one loiterer
Still lingers at his song, securely screened
By foliage. Dear, what miracle is this,
Transforming void and chaos with a kiss!
Home
© Zbigniew Herbert
A home above the year's seasons
home of children animals and apples
a square of empty space
under an absent star
