Truth poems
/ page 160 of 257 /The Hearts
© Robert Pinsky
The legendary muscle that wants and grieves,
The organ of attachment, the pump of thrills
And troubles, clinging in stubborn colonies
Incorrect Speaking
© Charles Lamb
Incorrectness in your speech
Carefully avoid, my Anna;
Study well the sense of each
Sentence, lest in any manner
It misrepresent the truth;
Veracity's the charm of youth.
The Troubadour. Canto 1
© Letitia Elizabeth Landon
There is a light step passing by
Like the distant sound of music's sigh;
It is that fair and gentle child,
Whose sweetness has so oft beguiled,
Like sunlight on a stormy day,
His almost sullenness away.
Sonnet 54: "O how much more doth beauty beauteous seem..."
© William Shakespeare
O how much more doth beauty beauteous seem,
By that sweet ornament which truth doth give!
How We Made a New Art on Old Ground
© Eavan Boland
A famous battle happened in this valley.
You never understood the nature poem.
Till now. Till this moment—if these statements
seem separate, unrelated, follow this
To Ladies Of A Certain Age
© John Trumbull
Ye ancient Maids, who ne'er must prove
The early joys of youth and love,
The Statue
© Ella Higginson
That I might chisel a statue, line on line,
Out of a marble’s chaste severities!
Poem about People
© Robert Pinsky
The jaunty crop-haired graying
Women in grocery stores,
Their clothes boyish and neat,
New mittens or clean sneakers,
Michael: A Pastoral Poem
© William Wordsworth
Thus in his Father's sight the Boy grew up:
And now, when he had reached his eighteenth year,
He was his comfort and his daily hope.
Truth Serum
© Naomi Shihab Nye
We made it from the ground-up corn in the old back pasture.
Pinched a scent of night jasmine billowing off the fence,
On Mrs. Montague's Feather Hangings
© William Cowper
The Birds put off their every hue,
To dress a room for Montagu.
A Dedication - To K.S.G.
© Henry Timrod
Fair Saxon, in my lover's creed,
My love were smaller than your meed,
Elegiac Stanzas Suggested By A Picture Of Peele Castle
© William Wordsworth
Ah! then , if mine had been the Painter's hand,
To express what then I saw; and add the gleam,
The light that never was, on sea or land,
The consecration, and the Poet's dream;
Prejudice
© Lizelia Augusta Jenkins Moorer
How strangely blind is prejudice, the Negro's greatest foe!
It never fails to see the wrong but naught of good can know.
'Tis blind to all that's lofty, yea, to truth it is opposed,
Degrading things will ope his eyes, while good will keep them closed.
Sonnet X. To Mrs. G
© Charlotte Turner Smith
AH! why will Mem'ry with officious care
The long lost visions of my days renew?
Why paint the vernal landscape green and fair,
When life's gay dawn was opening to my view?
The Truth About Envy
© Edgar Albert Guest
I like to see the flowers grow,
To see the pansies in a row;
The King Of Brentfords Testament
© William Makepeace Thackeray
The noble King of Brentford
Was old and very sick,
He summon'd his physicians
To wait upon him quick;
They stepp'd into their coaches
And brought their best physick.
A Day on the Big Branch
© Howard Nemerov
Still half drunk, after a night at cards,
with the grey dawn taking us unaware