Poems begining by H
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How Many Bards Gild The Lapses Of Time!
© John Keats
How many bards gild the lapses of time!
A few of them have ever been the food
Of my delighted fancy,I could brood
Over their beauties, earthly, or sublime:
Hymn To Apollo
© John Keats
God of the golden bow,
And of the golden lyre,
And of the golden hair,
And of the golden fire,
Hither, Hither, Love
© John Keats
Hither hither, love---
'Tis a shady mead---
Hither, hither, love!
Let us feed and feed!
Happy Is England! I Could Be Content
© John Keats
Happy is England! I could be content
To see no other verdure than its own;
To feel no other breezes than are blown
Through its tall woods with high romances blent;
Hyperion
© John Keats
BOOK I Deep in the shady sadness of a vale
Far sunken from the healthy breath of morn,
Far from the fiery noon, and eve's one star,
Sat gray-hair'd Saturn, quiet as a stone,
Having Misidentified A Wildflower
© Richard Wilbur
A thrush, because I'd been wrong,
Burst rightly into song
In a world not vague, not lonely,
Not governed by me only.
He Who Hath Glory Lost
© James Joyce
He who hath glory lost, nor hath
Found any soul to fellow his,
Among his foes in scorn and wrath
Holding to ancient nobleness,
That high unconsortable one ---
His love is his companion.
Harbor Moonrise
© Lucy Maud Montgomery
There is never a wind to sing o'er the sea
On its dimpled bosom that holdeth in fee
Wealth of silver and magicry;
And the harbor is like to an ebon cup
Harbor Dawn
© Lucy Maud Montgomery
There's a hush and stillness calm and deep,
For the waves have wooed all the winds to sleep
In the shadow of headlands bold and steep;
But some gracious spirit has taken the cup
Hey, That's No Way To Say Goodbye
© Leonard Cohen
I loved you in the morning, our kisses deep and warm,
your hair upon the pillow like a sleepy golden storm,
yes, many loved before us, I know that we are not new,
in city and in forest they smiled like me and you,
His Winding-sheet
© Robert Herrick
Come thou, who art the wine and wit
Of all I've writ;
The grace, the glory, and the best
Piece of the rest;
His Covenant Or Protestation To Julia
© Robert Herrick
Why dost thou wound and break my heart,
As if we should for ever part?
Hast thou not heard an oath from me,
After a day, or two, or three,
His Age:dedicated To His Peculiar Friend,mr John Wickes, Under The Name Ofpostumus
© Robert Herrick
Ah, Posthumus! our years hence fly
And leave no sound: nor piety,
Or prayers, or vow
Can keep the wrinkle from the brow;
His Grange, Or Private Wealth
© Robert Herrick
Though clock,
To tell how night draws hence, I've none,
A cock
I have to sing how day draws on:
His Request To Julia
© Robert Herrick
Julia, if I chance to die
Ere I print my poetry,
I most humbly thee desire
To commit it to the fire:
Better 'twere my book were dead,
Than to live not perfected.
How Springs Came First
© Robert Herrick
These springs were maidens once that loved,
But lost to that they most approved:
My story tells, by Love they were
Turn'd to these springs which we see here:
Her Bed
© Robert Herrick
See'st thou that cloud as silver clear,
Plump, soft, and swelling every where?
'Tis Julia's bed, and she sleeps there.
How His Soul Came Ensnared
© Robert Herrick
My soul would one day go and seek
For roses, and in Julia's cheek
A richess of those sweets she found,
As in another Rosamond;
His Last Request To Julia
© Robert Herrick
I have been wanton, and too bold, I fear,
To chafe o'er-much the virgin's cheek or ear;--
Beg for my pardon, Julia! he doth win
Grace with the gods who's sorry for his sin.
His Desire
© Robert Herrick
Give me a man that is not dull,
When all the world with rifts is full;
But unamazed dares clearly sing,
Whenas the roof's a-tottering;
And though it falls, continues still
Tickling the Cittern with his quill.
