Truth poems
/ page 180 of 257 /The Shepheardes Calender: Februarie
© Edmund Spenser
Februarie: Ægloga Secunda. CVDDIE & THENOT.
CVDDIE.
AH for pittie, wil ranke Winters rage,
These bitter blasts neuer ginne tasswage?
The Man Forsworn
© William Watson
Who draws to-day the unrighteous sword?
Behold him stand, the Man Forsworn,
The warrior of the faithless word,
The pledge disowned, the covenant torn,
Who prates of honour, truth, and trust,
Ere he profanes them in the dust.
To A.J. Scott, May, 1857
© George MacDonald
When, long ago, the daring of my youth
Drew nigh thy greatness with a little thing,
Thou didst receive me; and thy sky of truth
After The Quarrel
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
SO we, who've supped the self-same cup,
To-night must lay our friendship by;
The Third Monarchy, being the Grecian, beginning under Alexander the Great in the 112. Olympiad.
© Anne Bradstreet
Great Alexander was wise Philips son,
He to Amyntas, Kings of Macedon;
A Ballad Sent to King Richard
© Geoffrey Chaucer
Sometime this world was so steadfast and stable,
That man's word was held obligation;
The Church Militant
© George Herbert
Almightie Lord, who from thy glorious throne
Seest and rulest all things ev'n as one:
To The Chief Musician Upon Nabla: A Tyndallic Ode
© James Clerk Maxwell
I.
I come from fields of fractured ice,
The World In The House
© Jane Taylor
Regions of intellect ! serenely fair,
Hence let us rise, and breathe your purer air.
--There shine the stars ! one intellectual glance
At that bright host,--on yon sublime expanse,
Might prove a cure ;--well, say they, let them shine
With all our hearts,--but let us dress and dine.
Sonnet II
© Fernando António Nogueira Pessoa
If that apparent part of life's delight
Our tingled flesh-sense circumscribes were seen
The Gardener
© Roderic Quinn
WITHIN this garden space are set
Sweet mignonette and violet,
Sunk in rich mould; at dawn and night
Their leaves dew-wet.
Battle Of Hastings - I
© Thomas Chatterton
From Chatelet hys launce Erle Egward drew,
And hit Wallerie on the dexter cheek;
Peerc'd to his braine, and cut his tongue in two.
There, knyght, quod he, let that thy actions speak --
The Princess (part 7)
© Alfred Tennyson
'If you be, what I think you, some sweet dream,
I would but ask you to fulfil yourself:
But if you be that Ida whom I knew,
I ask you nothing: only, if a dream,
Sweet dream, be perfect. I shall die tonight.
Stoop down and seem to kiss me ere I die.'
"Sed Nos Qui Vivimus"
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
How beautiful is life--the physical joy of sense and breathing;
The glory of the world which has found speech and speaks to us;
The robe which summer throws in June round the white bones of winter;
The new birth of each day, itself a life, a world, a sun!
Maha-Bharata, The Epic Of Ancient India - Book II - Swayamvara (The Bride's Choice)
© Romesh Chunder Dutt
The mutual jealousies of the princes increased from day to day, and
when Yudhishthir, the eldest of all the princes and the eldest son of
the late Pandu, was recognised heir-apparent, the anger of Duryodhan
and his brothers knew no bounds. And they formed a dark scheme to
kill the sons of Pandu.
A Lover's Confession
© Robert Fuller Murray
When people tell me they have loved
But once in youth,
I wonder, are they always moved
To speak the truth?
Hymn XXIX: Come, Ye Weary Sinners, Come
© Charles Wesley
Come, ye weary sinners, come,
All who groan beneath your load,
David
© Thomas Parnell
When e'er his flocks the lovely shepherd drove
To neighb'ring waters, to the neighb'ring grove;
To Jordan's flood refresh'd by cooling wind,
Or Cedron's brook to mossy banks confin'd,
In easy notes and guise of lowly swain,
'Twas thus he charm'd and taught the listning train.
A New Pilgrimage: Sonnet XXXVII
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
I will release my soul of argument.
He that would love must follow with shut eyes.
My reason of the years was discontent,
My treasure for all hope a vain surmise.