Poems begining by H
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Hark the sky-lark in the cloud
© Augusta Davies Webster
HARK the sky-lark in the cloud,
Hark the cricket in the grass,
Trilling blitheness clear and loud,
Chirping glee to all who pass.
Oh, the merry summer lay!
Earth and sky keep holiday.
How Much More Blood?
© Sukasah Syahdan
How much more blood
must the people suffer
before they come to a halt
with this horror of power?
Heine's "Widow Or Daughter?"
© Eugene Field
Shall I woo the one or other?
Both attract me-more's the pity!
Pretty is the widowed mother,
And the daughter, too, is pretty.
How I Consulted The Oracle Of The Goldfishes
© James Russell Lowell
What know we of the world immense
Beyond the narrow ring of sense?
Hostel Beach, Oneroa
© Ivan Donn Carswell
The cliff sprang from the sea at end of Hostel Beach,
if the tide was out youd reach a tiny bay beyond
the cape without wet feet, an easy stroll but too effete
for blood as hot as ours. We watched it at full flood;
Hoping With Care
© Ivan Donn Carswell
We are honored and humble and earnest to share
in events which would happen
although we werent there, a trifling thing
as it were we are sure but amazing
Hidden dangers
© Ivan Donn Carswell
Which things excited you the most when you were young,
can you recall the pleasures they would bring? Indulge
yourself, dispose your mind of daily care and take
the plunge but beware, theres hidden dangers here.
Her gentle hands
© Ivan Donn Carswell
She sighed and sighed and signified
repleteness of her solo ride, she kissed
his salty tear-filled eyes and said her name.
Having each of you as friends
© Ivan Donn Carswell
For more than 40 years weve been good friends,
since 1963 in fact, from college where we met
(and managed there to build a strong quartet
of campus friendship which kept those years intact,
Haircut today
© Ivan Donn Carswell
I am having a haircut today, it is not
a complex event requiring excellent
foresight, careful planning or indecent
logistical arrangement; not to my way
Hymn To Eros
© Denise Levertov
O Eros, silently smiling one, hear me.
Let the shadow of thy wings
brush me.
Let thy presence
Hester
© Charles Lamb
WHEN maidens such as Hester die
Their place ye may not well supply,
Though ye among a thousand try
With vain endeavour.
Hatteras Calling
© Conrad Aiken
Southeast, and storm, and every weathervane
shivers and moans upon its dripping pin,
ragged on chimneys the cloud whips, the rain
howls at the flues and windows to get in,
Hard Times
© Rabindranath Tagore
Music is silenced, the dark descending slowly
Has stripped unending skies of all companions.
Weariness grips your limbs and within the locked horizons
Dumbly ring the bells of hugely gathering fears.
Still, O bird, O sightless bird,
Not yet, not yet the time to furl your wings.
Hymn to God, My God, in my Sickness
© John Donne
Since I am coming to that holy room,
Where, with thy choir of saints for evermore,
I shall be made thy music; as I come
I tune the instrument here at the door,
And what I must do then, think here before.
How A Cat Was Annoyed And A Poet Was Booted
© Guy Wetmore Carryl
A poet had a cat.
There is nothing odd in that
He Loves Me
© Mark van Doren
And he has terrors that he can release.
But when he looks he loves me; which is why
I wonder; and my wonder must increase
Till more of it shall slay me. Yet I live,
I live; and he has never ceased to give
This glance at me that sweetens the whole sky.
