Truth poems
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The Preacher
© John Greenleaf Whittier
The impulse spread like the outward course
Of waters moved by a central force;
The tide of spiritual life rolled down
From inland mountains to seaboard town.
The Hunter's Indian Dove
© Charles Harpur
O then, by the artless tears that rise
Neath the downcast lids of her gleaming eyes
By the truthfully tender and touching grace
That boding passion then lends to her face
I swear, in the very wild spirit of love,
Never to leave her, my Indian dove!
Sonnet XV. To The Lord General Fairfax
© John Milton
Fairfax, whose Name in Arms through Europe rings,
And fills all Mouths with Envy or with Praise,
And all her Jealous Monarchs with Amaze.
And Rumours loud which daunt remotest Kings,
The Day of The Lord
© Charles Kingsley
The Day of the Lord is at hand, at hand:
Its storms roll up the sky:
America: From the National Ode, July 4, 1876
© James Bayard Taylor
FORESEEN in the vision of sages,
Foretold when martyrs bled,
Olney Hymn 22: Prayer For A Blessing In The Young
© William Cowper
Bestow, dear Lord, upon our youth
The gift of saving grace;
And let the seed of sacred truth
Fall in a fruitful place.
Evening
© Annie McCarer Darlington
'Tis Evening! soul enchanting hour,
And queenly silence reigns supreme;
A shade is cast o'er lake and bower,
All nature sinks beneath the power
Of sweet oblivion's dream.
The Inward Warfare
© John Newton
Strange and mysterious is my life,
What opposites I feel within!
A stable peace, a constant strife,
The rule of grace, the pow'r of sin:
Too often I am captive led,
Yet daily triumph in my Head.
Youth In Memory
© George Meredith
Days, when the ball of our vision
Had eagles that flew unabashed to sun;
Sumner
© John Greenleaf Whittier
O Mother State! the winds of March
Blew chill o'er Auburn's Field of God,
Where, slow, beneath a leaden arch
Of sky, thy mourning children trod.
A Meditation Of St. Eligius
© George MacDonald
Queen Mary one day Jesus sent
To fetch some water, legends tell;
The little boy, obedient,
Drew a full pitcher from the well;
Elegy XIV. Declining an Invitation To Visit Foreign Countries
© William Shenstone
While others, lost to friendship, lost to love,
Waste their best minutes on a foreign strand,
Be mine, with British nymph or swain to rove,
And court the Genius of my native land.
The Ring And The Book - Chapter VI - Giuseppe Caponsacchi
© Robert Browning
Again the morning found me. I will work,
Tie down my foolish thoughts. Thank God so far!
I have saved her from a scandal, stopped the tongues
Had broken else into a cackle and hiss
Around the noble name. Duty is still
Wisdom: I have been wise. So the day wore.
The Bethlehem Nursing Home by Rodney Torreson: American Life in Poetry #25 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Lau
© Ted Kooser
Emily Dickinson said that poems come at the truth at a slant. Here a birdbath and some overturned chairs on a nursing home lawn suggest the frailties of old age. Masterful poems choose the very best words and put them in the very best places, and Michigan poet Rodney Torreson has deftly chosen "ministers" for his first verb, an active verb that suggests the good work of the nursing home's chaplain.
Chaste Florimel
© Matthew Prior
No - I'll endure ten thousand deaths
Ere any further I'll comply:
Oh! Sir, no man on earth that breathes
Had ever yet his hand so high.
The Call
© George Herbert
Come, my Way, my Truth, my Life:
Such a Way, as gives us breath:
Such a Truth, as ends all strife:
Such a Life, as killeth death.
Sonnet III. Written On The Day That Mr. Leigh Hunt Left Prison
© John Keats
What though, for showing truth to flatter'd state,
Kind Hunt was shut in prison, yet has he,
Peter Bell The Third
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
Is it a party in a parlour,
Crammed just as they on earth were crammed,
Some sipping punch-some sipping tea;
But, as you by their faces see,
All silent, and all-damned!
Peter Bell, by W. Wordsworth.
