Poems begining by H
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Hellas
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
THE world's great age begins anew,
The golden years return,
The earth doth like a snake renew
Her winter weeds outworn;
Heaven smiles, and faiths and empires gleam
Like wrecks of a dissolving dream.
Hymn Of Pan
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
FROM the forests and highlands
We come, we come;
From the river-girt islands,
Where loud waves are dumb
Hymn To Intellectual Beauty
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
The awful shadow of some unseen Power
Floats through unseen among us, -- visiting
This various world with as inconstant wing
As summer winds that creep from flower to flower, --
Houses
© Arthur Seymour John Tessimond
People who are afraid of themselves
Multiply themselves into families
And so divide themselves
And so become less afraid.
Her Reply
© Sir Walter Raleigh
IF all the world and love were young,
And truth in every shepherd's tongue,
These pretty pleasures might me move
To live with thee and be thy Love.
His Pilgrimage
© Sir Walter Raleigh
GIVE me my scallop-shell of quiet,
My staff of faith to walk upon,
My scrip of joy, immortal diet,
My bottle of salvation,
My gown of glory, hope's true gage;
And thus I'll take my pilgrimage.
"Have you ever made a just man?"
© Stephen Crane
"Have you ever made a just man?"
"Oh, I have made three," answered God,
"But two of them are dead,
And the third --
Listen! Listen!
And you will hear the thud of his defeat."
Henry Purcell
© Gerard Manley Hopkins
The poet wishes well to the divine genius of Purcell
and praises him that, whereas other musicians have
given utterance to the moods of man's mind, he has,
beyond that, uttered in notes the very make and
species of man as created both in him and in all men
generally.
Harry Ploughman
© Gerard Manley Hopkins
Hard as hurdle arms, with a broth of goldish flue
Breathed round; the rack of ribs; the scooped flank; lank
Rope-over thigh; knee-nave; and barrelled shank
Head and foot, shoulder and shank
Hope Holds to Christ
© Gerard Manley Hopkins
. . . . . . . .
Hope holds to Christ the minds own mirror out
To take His lovely likeness more and more.
It will not well, so she would bring about
Hurrahing In Harvest
© Gerard Manley Hopkins
And the azurous hung hills are his world-wielding shoulder
Majesticas a stallion stalwart, very-violet-sweet!
These things, these things were here and but the beholder
Wanting; which two when they once meet,
The heart rears wings bold and bolder
And hurls for him, O half hurls earth for him off under his feet.
Heaven--Haven: A Nun Takes The Veil
© Gerard Manley Hopkins
I have desired to go
Where springs not fail,
To fields where flies no sharp and sided hail
And a few lilies blow.
"Heap cassia, sandal-buds and stripes"
© Robert Browning
Heap cassia, sandal-buds and stripes
Of labdanum, and aloe-balls,
Smeared with dull nard an Indian wipes
From out her hair: such balsam falls
Heretic's Tragedy, The
© Robert Browning
(It would seem to be a glimpse from the
burning of Jacques du Bourg-Mulay, at Paris,
A. D. 1314; as distorted by the refraction from
Flemish brain to brain, during the course of
a couple of centuries.)
Holy-Cross Day
© Robert Browning
ON WHICH THE JEWS WERE FORCED TO
ATTEND AN ANNUAL CHRISTIAN SERMON
IN ROME.
Home Thoughts, From The Sea
© Robert Browning
Nobly, nobly Cape Saint Vincent to the North-west died away;
Sunset ran, one glorious blood-red, reeking into Cadiz Bay;
Bluish 'mid the burning water, full in face Trafalgar lay;
In the dimmest North-east distance dawned Gibraltar grand and grey;
How They Brought The Good News From Ghent To Aix
© Robert Browning
I sprang to the stirrup, and Joris, and he;
I galloped, Dirck galloped, we galloped all three;
"Good speed!" cried the watch, as the gate-bolts undrew;
"Speed!" echoed the wall to us galloping through;
Behind shut the postern, the lights sank to rest,
And into the midnight we galloped abreast.
Home Thoughts, From Abroad
© Robert Browning
Oh, to be in England
Now that April's there,
And whoever wakes in England
Sees, some morning, unaware,
Ho, everyone that thirsteth
© Alfred Edward Housman
Ho, everyone that thirsteth
And hath the price to give,
Come to the stolen waters,
Drink and your soul shall live.
Hughley Steeple
© Alfred Edward Housman
LXIThe vane on Hughley steeple
Veers bright, a far-known sign,
And there lie Hughley people,
And there lie friends of mine.
