Poems begining by H
/ page 38 of 105 /
Heart Of Youth
© Margaret Widdemer
But when I open the door
There are only the old lights
And the old accustomed faces
And the firelight on the floor. . . .
Hymn: Thou Hidden Love of God
© John Wesley
Thou hidden love of God, whose height,
Whose depth unfathom'd no man knows,
I see from far thy beauteous light,
Inly I sigh for thy repose;
My heart is pain'd, nor can it be
At rest, till it finds rest in thee.
Home, Wounded
© Sydney Thompson Dobell
Wheel me into the sunshine,
Wheel me into the shadow,
There must be leaves on the woodbine,
Is the king-cup crowned in the meadow?
Heut abend bleibt es lange hell
© Anna de Noailles
Heut abend bleibt es lange hell, die Tage werden länger,
der Lärm des grellen Tages löst sich auf und flieht,
die Bäume wundern sich, daß sie die Nacht nicht sehen,
sie bleiben wach im weißen Abendlicht und sinnen …
Heaven has different Signsto me
© Emily Dickinson
"Heaven" has different Signsto me
Sometimes, I think that Noon
Is but a symbol of the Place
And when again, at Dawn,
House-Surgeon
© William Ernest Henley
Exceeding tall, but built so well his height
Half-disappears in flow of chest and limb;
"How hard for me, the splendor of this crown and robe"
© Osip Emilevich Mandelstam
-- O, if hate would boil in my breast --
but see, the admission itself
has fallen from my lips.
Herbal
© Katharine Tynan
Love-lies-bleeding now is found
Grown in every common ground.
Love-lies-bleeding thrives apace
With the dear forget-me-not:
Nor is boy's love out of place
Now in any garden plot.
Homage To Sextus Propertius - III
© Ezra Pound
Midnight, and a letter comes to me from our mistress:
Telling me to come to Tibur:
At once!!
'Bright tips reach up from twin towers,
'Anienan spring water falls into flat-spread pools.'
Happiness
© Raymond Carver
So early it's still almost dark out.
I'm near the window with coffee,
and the usual early morning stuff
that passes for thought.
Here's to the Maiden of Bashful Fifteen
© Richard Brinsley Sheridan
Here's to the charmer whose dimples we prize;
Now to the maid who has none, sir:
Here's to the girl with a pair of blue eyes,
And here's to the nymph with but one, sir.
Chorus
He Wonders Whether to Praise or Blame Her
© Rupert Brooke
I have peace to weigh your worth, now all is over,
But if to praise or blame you, cannot say.
For, who decries the loved, decries the lover;
Yet what man lauds the thing hes thrown away?
Hoodoo Voodoo Lady
© Sheldon Allan Silverstein
Yeah hoodoo voodoo lady cast up your voodoo vision
Let me know where did my baby go where did my lovin' baby go
Hoodoo voodoo lady shake your black cat tooth and your mojo bone
And bring my baby home bring my baby back home yeah
Home
© Rupert Brooke
I came back late and tired last night
Into my little room,
To the long chair and the firelight
And comfortable gloom.
Heaven
© Rupert Brooke
Fish (fly-replete, in depth of June,
Dawdling away their wat'ry noon)
Ponder deep wisdom, dark or clear,
Each secret fishy hope or fear.
