Truth poems
/ page 184 of 257 /Robin Hood, An Outlaw.
© James Henry Leigh Hunt
Robin Hood is an outlaw bold
Under the greenwood tree;
Bird, nor stag, nor morning air
Is more at large than he.
The Yarn of the Loch Achray
© John Masefield
Her crew were shipped and they said 'Farewell,
So-long, my Tottie, my lovely gell;
We sail to-day if we fetch to hell,
It's time we tackled the wheel a spell.'
Hear the yarn of a sailor,
An old yarn learned at sea.
The Wanderer
© John Masefield
ALL day they loitered by the resting ships,
Telling their beauties over, taking stock;
At night the verdict left my messmate's lips,
"The Wanderer is the finest ship in dock."
The Everlasting Mercy
© John Masefield
Thy place is biggyd above the sterrys cleer,
Noon erthely paleys wrouhte in so statly wyse,
Com on my freend, my brothir moost enteer,
For the I offryd my blood in sacrifise.
John Lydgate.
Death In Life
© Madison Julius Cawein
Within my veins it beats
And burns within my brain;
For when the year is sad and sear
I dream the dream again.
Opifex
© Edward Thomas
As I was carving images from clouds,
And tinting them with soft ethereal dyes
Pressed from the pulp of dreams, one comes, and cries:--
"Forbear!" and all my heaven with gloom enshrouds.
Stellas Birth-Day: A Great Bottle Of Wine, Long Buried, Being That Day Dug Up. 1722-3
© Jonathan Swift
Resolv'd my annual verse to pay,
By duty bound, on Stella's day,
Furnish'd with paper, pens, and ink,
I gravely sat me down to think:
Olympus
© Richard Monckton Milnes
With no sharp--sided peak or sudden cone,
Thou risest o'er the blank Thessalian plain,
But in the semblance of a rounded throne,
Meet for a monarch and his noble train
Sonnet I: Unto the Boundless Ocean
© Samuel Daniel
Unto the boundless Ocean of thy beauty
Runs this poor river, charg'd with streams of zeal:
In A Garden
© Bliss William Carman
THOUGHT is a garden wide and old
For airy creatures to explore,
Where grow the great fantastic flowers
With truth for honey at the core.
The Woman That Lifted Up Her Voice
© George MacDonald
Filled with his words of truth and right,
Her heart will break or cry:
A woman's cry bursts forth in might
Of loving agony.
A Summons
© John Greenleaf Whittier
MEN of the North-land! where's the manly spirit
Of the true-hearted and the unshackled gone?
Sons of old freemen, do we but inherit
Their names alone?
The Harp Of Hoel
© William Lisle Bowles
It was a high and holy sight,
When Baldwin and his train,
With cross and crosier gleaming bright,
Came chanting slow the solemn rite,
To Gwentland's pleasant plain.
A Poetry Reading At West Point
© William Matthews
I read to the entire plebe class,
in two batches. Twice the hall filled
with bodies dressed alike, each toting
a copy of my book. What would my
shrink say, if I had one, about
such a dream, if it were a dream?
Song Of A Pilgrim-Soul
© Henry Van Dyke
March on, my soul, nor like a laggard stay!
March swiftly on. Yet err not from the way
Spelling
© Margaret Atwood
My daughter plays on the floor
with plastic letters,
red, blue & hard yellow,
learning how to spell,
spelling,
how to make spells.