Famous poems that start with letter H
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He Tells Of The Perfect Beauty by William Butler Yeats
O cloud-pale eyelids, dream-dimmed eyes,
The poets labouring all their days
To build a perfect bea.. His Dream by William Butler Yeats I swayed upon the gaudy stem The butt-end of a steering-oar, And saw wherever I could turn A crow.. Her Praise by William Butler Yeats She is foremost of those that I would hear praised. I have gone about the house, gone up and down .. He Remembers Forgotten Beauty by William Butler Yeats When my arms wrap you round I press My heart upon the loveliness That has long faded from the worl.. Her Anxiety by William Butler Yeats Earth in beauty dressed Awaits returning spring. All true love must die, Alter at the best Into.. His Phoenix by William Butler Yeats There is a queen in China, or maybe it’s in Spain, And birthdays and holidays such praises can be h.. Her Dream by William Butler Yeats I dreamed as in my bed I lay, All night’s fathomless wisdom come, That I had shorn my locks away .. High Talk by William Butler Yeats Processions that lack high stilts have nothing that catches the eye. What if my great-granddad had.. His Confidence by William Butler Yeats Undying love to buy I wrote upon The corners of this eye All wrongs done. What payment were enou.. He Wishes For The Cloths Of Heaven by William Butler Yeats Had I the heavens’ embroidered cloths, Enwrought with golden and silver light, The blue and the di.. Hear the Voice by William Blake HEAR the voice of the Bard, Who present, past, and future, sees; Whose ears have heard The Hol.. How Sweet I Roam'd by William Blake How sweet I roam’d from field to field, And tasted all the summer’s pride ’Til the prince of love.. Holy Thursday (Innocence) by William Blake Twas on a Holy Thursday their innocent faces clean The children walking two & two in red & blue & g.. Holy Thursday (Experience) by William Blake Is this a holy thing to see. In a rich and fruitful land. Babes reduced to misery. Fed with cold.. Hast Never Come to Thee an Hour. by Walt Whitman HAST never come to thee an hour, A sudden gleam divine, precipitating, bursting all these bubbles,.. How Solemn as One by One. by Walt Whitman HOW solemn, as one by one, As the ranks returning, all worn and sweaty—as the men file by where I.. Hours Continuing Long. by Walt Whitman HOURS continuing long, sore and heavy-hearted, Hours of the dusk, when I withdraw to a lonesome an.. Hours Continuing Long. by Walt Whitman HOURS continuing long, sore and heavy-hearted, Hours of the dusk, when I withdraw to a lonesome an.. Here the Frailest Leaves of Me. by Walt Whitman HERE the frailest leaves of me, and yet my strongest-lasting: Here I shade and hide my thoughts—I.. Hush’d be the Camps To-day. by Walt Whitman 1 HUSH’D be the camps to-day; And, soldiers, let us drape our war-worn weapons; And each with m.. |
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