Truth poems
/ page 195 of 257 /Banner Of Men Who Were Free
© Edgar Lee Masters
Flag of the great republic, banner of men who were free!
Carried aloft for freedom in many a bloody gorge;
Torn by the shot of tyrants in battle by land and sea,
The rallying hope of our fathers by Valley Forge.
Inspiration
© Henry David Thoreau
But if with bended neck I grope
Listening behind me for my wit,
With faith superior to hope,
More anxious to keep back than forward it;
Friendship
© Henry David Thoreau
I fain would ask my friend how it can be,
But when the time arrives,
Then Love is more lovely
Than anything to me,
And so I'm dumb.
Paradise Lost : Book V.
© John Milton
Now Morn, her rosy steps in the eastern clime
Advancing, sowed the earth with orient pearl,
To The Poet On The Subject Of Flowers
© Arthur Rimbaud
Thus continually towards the dark azure,
Where the sea of topazes shimmers,
Will function in your evening
The Lilies, those pessaries of ectasy!
Voices Of The Night : Flowers
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Spake full well, in language quaint and olden,
One who dwelleth by the Castle Rhine,
When he called the flowers, so blue and golden
Stars, that in the earth's firmament do shine.
To William Wordsworth. Composed On The Night After His Recitation Of A Poem On The Growth Of An Indi
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Friend of the Wise! and Teacher of the Good!
Into my heart have I received that Lay
More than historic, that prophetic Lay
Wherein (high theme by thee first sung aright)
Raphael
© John Greenleaf Whittier
I shall not soon forget that sight
The glow of Autumn's westering day,
A hazy warmth, a dreamy light,
On Raphael's picture lay.
The Ring And The Book - Chapter VII - Pompilia
© Robert Browning
There,
Strength comes already with the utterance!
I will remember once more for his sake
The sorrow: for he lives and is belied.
Could he be here, how he would speak for me!
Dream Song 34: My mother has your shotgun. One man, wide
© John Berryman
My mother has your shotgun. One man, wide
in the mind, and tendoned like a grizzly, pried
to his trigger-digit, pal.
He should not have done that, but, I guess,
he didn't feel the best, Sister,âfelt less
and more about less than us . . . ?
Love And War
© Arthur Patchett Martin
THE CHANCELLOR mused as he nibbled his pen
(Sure no Minister ever looked wiser),
The Battle Of Harlaw--Evergreen Version
© Andrew Lang
Frae Dunidier as I cam throuch,
Doun by the hill of Banochie,
The Conquerors
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
Round the wide earth, from the red field your valour has won,
Blown with the breath of the far-speaking gun,
Goes the word.
Bravely you spoke through the battle cloud heavy and dun.
Tossed though the speech toward the mist-hidden sun,
The world heard.
Moonrise Over Tyringham
© Edith Wharton
Now the high holocaust of hours is done,
And all the west empurpled with their death,
How swift oblivion drinks the fallen sun,
How little while the dusk remembereth!
Sonnet V. To A Friend Who Sent Me Some Roses
© John Keats
As late I rambled in the happy fields,
What time the skylark shakes the tremulous dew
From his lush clover covert;when anew
Adventurous knights take up their dinted shields;
Dream Song 38: The Russian grin bellows his condolence
© John Berryman
The Russian grin bellows his condolence
tó the family: ah but it's Kay,
& Ted, & Chris & Anne,
Henry thinks of: who eased his fearful way
from here, in here, to there. This wants thought.
I won't make it out.
The Call Of The Christian
© John Greenleaf Whittier
Not always as the whirlwind's rush
On Horeb's mount of fear,
Genesis BK XIII
© Caedmon
The sleep of death and fiends' seduction; death and hell and
exile and damnation - these were the fatal fruit whereon they
feasted. And when the apple worked within him and touched his
heart, then laughed aloud the evilhearted fiend, capered about,
and gave thanks to his lord for both: