Poems begining by H
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Hellas: Chorus
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
A brighter Hellas rears its mountains
From waves serener far;
A new Peneus rolls his fountains
Against the morning star.
Where fairer Tempes bloom, there sleep
Young Cyclads on a sunnier deep.
Hotel François 1er
© Gertrude Stein
It was a very little while and they had gone in front of it. It was that they had liked it would it bear. It was a very much adjoined a follower. Flower of an adding where a follower.
Have I come in. Will in suggestion.
They may like hours in catching.
It is always a pleasure to remember.
Holy Sonnets: I am a little world made cunningly
© John Donne
I am a little world made cunningly
Of elements and an angelic sprite,
Her
© Billy Collins
There is no noisier place than the suburbs,
someone once said to me
as we were walking along a fairway,
and every day is delighted to offer fresh evidence:
House: Some Instructions
© Grace Paley
If you have a house
you must think about it all the time
as you reside in the house so
it must be a home in your mind
Holy Sonnets: Since she whom I lov'd hath paid her last debt
© John Donne
Since she whom I lov'd hath paid her last debt
To nature, and to hers, and my good is dead,
Holy Sonnets: Thou hast made me, and shall thy work decay?
© John Donne
Thou hast made me, and shall thy work decay?
Repair me now, for now mine end doth haste,
Holy Sonnets: At the round earth's imagin'd corners, blow
© John Donne
At the round earth's imagin'd corners, blow
Your trumpets, angels, and arise, arise
Hearke, Hearke, the Larke at Heauens Gate Sings
© William Shakespeare
Hearke, hearke, the Larke at Heauens gate sings,
and Phoebus gins arise,
Home 1
© Edward Thomas
Not the end: but there's nothing more.
Sweet Summer and Winter rude
I have loved, and friendship and love,
The crowd and solitude:
Her Eyes Twin Pools
© James Weldon Johnson
Her eyes, twin pools of mystic light,
The blend of star-sheen and black night;
O'er which, to sound their glamouring haze,
A man might bend, and vainly gaze.
Half Border and Half Lab
© Heather McHugh
He saved our sorry
highfalutin souls — the heavens haven't saved a fly. Orion's
canniness who can condone? — that starring story, strapping blade! —
and Sirius is just a Fido joke — no laughter shakes the firmament.
But O the family dog, the Buddha-dog — son of a bitch!
he had a funny bone —
Hyacinth
© Louise Gluck
2
There were no flowers in antiquity
but boys’ bodies, pale, perfectly imagined.
So the gods sank to human shape with longing.
In the field, in the willow grove,
Apollo sent the courtiers away.
How precious are thy thoughts of peace
© James Montgomery
How precious are thy thoughts of peace,
O God! to me; how great their sum!
New every morn, they never cease;
They were, they are, and yet shall come,
In number and in compass more
Than ocean's sand, or ocean's shore.
Here on Earth
© Rahel Bluwstein
Here on Earth - not in high clouds-
On this mother earth that is close:
To sorrow in her sadness, exult in her meager joy
That knows, so well, how to console.
Hooded Night
© Robinson Jeffers
At night, toward dawn, all the lights of the shore have died,
And a wind moves. Moves in the dark
