Truth poems
/ page 181 of 257 /Elegy on the Death of a Child
© James Hogg
Fair was thy blossom, tender flower,
That open'd like the rose in May,
Though nursed beneath the chilly shower
Of fell regret, for love's decay.
Tale XV
© George Crabbe
transgress'd,
And while the anger kindled in his breast,
The pain must be endured that could not be
The Columbiad: Book I
© Joel Barlow
Ah, lend thy friendly shroud to veil my sight,
That these pain'd eyes may dread no more the light;
These welcome shades shall close my instant doom,
And this drear mansion moulder to a tornb.
The Ruined Cottage
© Letitia Elizabeth Landon
None will dwell in that cottage; for, they say
Oppression reft it from an honest man,
Ultimum
© Francis Thompson
Now in these last spent drops, slow, slower shed,
Love dies, Love dies, Love dies--ah, Love is dead!
Said and Did
© George MacDonald
Said the boy as he read, "I too will be bold,
I will fight for the truth and its glory!"
He went to the playground, and soon had told
A very cowardly story!
The Duellist - Book I
© Charles Churchill
The clock struck twelve; o'er half the globe
Darkness had spread her pitchy robe:
The "Story Of Ida"
© John Greenleaf Whittier
Weary of jangling noises never stilled,
The skeptic's sneer, the bigot's hate, the din
Pauline Pavlovna
© Thomas Bailey Aldrich
Ah! your heart said that?
You trust your heart, then! 'T is a serious risk!-
How is it you and others wear no mask?
HE.
Tale
© Arthur Rimbaud
The Prince and the Genie annihilated each other probably in essential health.
How could they have helped dying of it?
Together then they died.
But this Prince died in his palace at an ordinary age,
the Prince was the Genie, the Genie was the Prince.--
There is no sovereign music for our desire.
Zacchaeus
© George MacDonald
To whom the heavy burden clings,
It yet may serve him like a staff;
One day the cross will break in wings,
The sinner laugh a holy laugh.
The Borough. Letter X: Clubs And Social Meetings
© George Crabbe
Next is the Club, where to their friends in town
Our country neighbours once a month come down;
We term it Free-and-Easy, and yet we
Find it no easy matter to be free:
E'en in our small assembly, friends among,
Are minds perverse, there's something will be
Watching Unto God In The Night Season (3)
© William Cowper
Night! how I love thy silent shades,
My spirits they compose;
The bliss of heaven my soul pervades,
In spite of all my woes.
Psalm LXXXVI. (86)
© John Milton
Thy gracious ear, O Lord, encline,
O hear me I thee pray,
For I am poor, and almost pine
With need, and sad decay.
The Good Of It
© Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
SOME men strut proudly, all purple and gold,
Hiding queer deeds 'neath a cloak of good fame;
I creep along, braving hunger and cold,
To keep my heart stainless as well as my name;
So, so, where is the good of it?
Written In A Country Churchyard
© John Kenyon
Oh! how I hate the cumbrous pride
Of plume and pall and scutcheon'd hearse,
Hymn Sung At An Anniversary Of The Asylum Of Orphans At Charleston
© Henry Timrod
We scarce, O God! could lisp thy name,
When those who loved us passed away,
And left us but thy love to claim,
With but an infant's strength to pray.
An Instance Of Dyspepsia
© Eli Siegel
I
There is a man of fifty-four years;
He has dyspepsia, it appears;
He chooses his food carefully,