Poems begining by H
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Hyla Brook
© Robert Frost
By June our brook's run out of song and speed.
Sought for much after that, it will be found
Either to have gone groping underground
(And taken with it all the Hyla breed
Health
© Edward Thomas
Four miles at a leap, over the dark hollow land,
To the frosted steep of the down and its junipers black,
Travels my eye with equal ease and delight:
And scarce could my body leap four yards.
Holy Baptisme
© George Herbert
As he that sees a dark and shadie grove,
Stayes not, but looks beyond it on the skie;
So when I view my sinnes, mine eyes remove
More backward still, and to that water flie,
Hold Hard The Ancient Minutes
© Dylan Thomas
Hold hard, these ancient minutes in the cuckoo's month,
Under the lank, fourth folly on Glamorgan's hill,
As the green blooms ride upward, to the drive of time;
Time, in a folly's rider, like a county man
Over the vault of ridings with his hound at heel,
Drives forth my men, my children, from the hanging south.
Huddersfield - The Second Poetry Capital Of England
© Barry Tebb
It brings to mind Swift leaving a fortune to Dublin
How beautiful the Earth is still
© Emily Jane Brontë
How beautiful the Earth is still
To theehow full of Happiness;
How little fraught with real ill
Or shadowy phantoms of distress;
How I Walked Alone in the Jungles of Heaven
© Vachel Lindsay
Oh, once I walked in Heaven, all alone
Upon the sacred cliffs above the sky.
God and the angels, and the gleaming saints
Had journeyed out into the stars to die.
hastee apnee Hubaab kee see hai
© Meer Taqi Meer
O Meer! The drowsiness in those dreamy eyes,
Is just like that of wine
How Samson Bore Away the Gates of Gaza
© Vachel Lindsay
The air was black, like the smoke of a dragon.
Samson's heart was as big as a wagon.
He sang like a shining golden fountain.
He sweated up to the top of the mountain.
He threw down the gates with a noise like judgment.
And the quails all ran with the big arousement.
How a Little Girl Sang
© Vachel Lindsay
Ah, she was music in herself,
A symphony of joyousness.
She sang, she sang from finger tips,
From every tremble of her dress.
Honor Among Scamps
© Vachel Lindsay
We are the smirched. Queen Honor is the spotless.
We slept thro' wars where Honor could not sleep.
We were faint-hearted. Honor was full-valiant.
We kept a silence Honor could not keep.
His Brothers Keeper
© Henry Lawson
By his paths through the parched desolation,
Hot rides and the terrible tramps;
By the hunger, the thirst, the privation
Of his work in the further most camps.
Here's to the Mice!
© Vachel Lindsay
(Written with the hope that the socialists might yet dethrone Kaiser and Czar.)
Here's to the mice that scare the lions,
Creeping into their cages.
Here's to the fairy mice that bite
Heart of God
© Vachel Lindsay
O great heart of God,
Once vague and lost to me,
Why do I throb with your throb to-night,
In this land, eternity?
How a Little Girl Danced
© Vachel Lindsay
Oh, thrice-painted dancer, vaudeville dancer,
Sad in your spangles, with soul all astrain,
I know a dancer, I know a dancer,
Whose laughter and weeping are spiritual gain,
A pure-hearted, high-hearted maiden evangel,
With strength the dark cynical earth to disdain.
Herbert
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
AH! you tricksy little elf,
How you idolize yourself!
And believe the world was made
Like a gay-hued masquerade,
