Truth poems
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The Ring And The Book - Chapter IV - Tertium Quid
© Robert Browning
Is so far clear? You know Violante now,
Compute her capability of crime
By this authentic instance? Black hard cold
Crime like a stone you kick up with your foot
I the middle of a field?
Abner And The Widow Jones
© Robert Bloomfield
Well! I'm determin'd; that's enough:-
Gee, Bayard! move your poor old bones,
I'll take to-morrow, smooth or rough,
To go and court the Widow Jones.
The Dreams That Came True
© Jean Ingelow
I saw in a vision once, our mother-sphere
The world, her fixed foredooméd oval tracing,
Rolling and rolling on and resting never,
While like a phantom fell, behind her pacing
The unfurled flag of night, her shadow drear
Fled as she fled and hung to her forever.
Maha-Bharata, The Epic Of Ancient India - Book III - Rajasuya - (The Imperial Sacrifice)
© Romesh Chunder Dutt
A curious incident followed the bridal of Draupadi. The five sons of
Pandu returned with her to the potter's house, where they were
At The Making Of Man
© Bliss William Carman
First all the host of Raphael
In liveries of gold,
Lifted the chorus on whose rhythm
The spinning spheres are rolled,
The Seraphs of the morning calm
Whose hearts are never cold.
The Blue And Gray
© Eugene Field
The Blue and the Gray collided one day
In the future great town of Missouri,
And if all that we hear is the truth, 'twould appear
That they tackled each other with fury.
Chalkey Hall
© John Greenleaf Whittier
Oh, once again revive, while on my ear
The cry of Gain
And low hoarse hum of Traffic die away,
Ye blessed memories of my early day
Like sere grass wet with rain!
A Letter
© John Greenleaf Whittier
'TIS over, Moses! All is lost!
I hear the bells a-ringing;
Of Pharaoh and his Red Sea host
I hear the Free-Wills singing.*
Content, To My Dearest Lucasia
© Katherine Philips
Content, the false World's best disguise,
The search and faction of the Wise,
Is so abstruse and hid in night,
That, like that Fairy Red-cross Knight,
Who trech'rous Falshood for clear Truth had got,
Men think they have it when they have it not.
To Poesy
© Charles Harpur
Ah, misery! what were then my lot
Amongst a race of unbelievers
Sordid men who all declare
That earthly gain alone is fair,
And they who pore on bardic lore
Deceived deceivers.
Lines Written In August
© Thomas Babbington Macaulay
The day of tumult, strife, defeat, was o'er;
Worn out with toil, and noise, and scorn, and spleen,
I slumbered, and in slumber saw once more
A room in an old mansion, long unseen.
To H. W. Longfellow
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
OUR Poet, who has taught the Western breeze
To waft his songs before him o'er the seas,
Will find them wheresoe'er his wanderings reach
Borne on the spreading tide of English speech
Twin with the rhythmic waves that kiss the farthest beach.
conteining an Historicall Discourse from the Infancie of the world, untill this present time
© Roger Cotton
Now may we all of England say of truth:
As we haue heard, so haue we seene performd
In these our dayes most worthy to be learnd:
How that the Lord doth stil his Church defend
From cruell foes, whom his to hurt pretend.
The Wonderful Spring Of San Joaquin
© Francis Bret Harte
You see the point? Don't be too quick
To break bad habits: better stick,
Like the Mission folk, to your ARSENIC.
Misunderstood
© Lizelia Augusta Jenkins Moorer
The ills of all the human race,
The woes of earth that bring disgrace
Would banish, if we only could,
Escape the fiend, Misunderstood.
Occasion'd By Seeing Some Verses Written By Mrs. Constantia Grierson, Upon The Death Of Her Son.
© Mary Barber
Soften, kind Heav'n, her seeming rigid Fate,
With frequent Visions of his blissful State:
Oft let the Guardian Angel of her Son
Tell her in faithful Dreams, His Task is done;
Shew, how he kindly led her lovely Boy
To Realms of Peace, and never--fading Joy.
Adam: A Sacred Drama. Act 5.
© William Cowper
Adam. Restrain, restrain thy step
Whoe'er thou art, nor with thy songs inveigle
Him, who has only cause for ceaseless tears.
The Contented Man's Morice
© George Wither
False world, thy malice I espie
With what thou hast designed;
And therein with thee to comply,
Who likewise are combined:
But, do thy worst, I thee defie,
Thy mischiefs are confined.
Queen Mab: Part V.
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
'Thus do the generations of the earth
Go to the grave and issue from the womb,
