Truth poems
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131. Song-Willie Chalmers
© Robert Burns
WI’ braw new branks in mickle pride,
And eke a braw new brechan,
To a Highland Girl
© William Wordsworth
Sweet Highland Girl, a very showerOf beauty is thy earthly dower!Twice seven consenting years have shedTheir utmost bounty on thy head:And these grey rocks; that household lawn;Those trees, a veil just half withdrawn;This fall of water that doth makeA murmur near the silent lake;This little bay; a quiet roadThat holds in shelter thy Abode--In truth together do ye seemLike something fashioned in a dream;Such Forms as from their covert peepWhen earthly cares are laid asleep!But, O fair Creature! in the lightOf common day, so heavenly bright,I bless Thee, Vision as thou art,I bless thee with a human heart;God shield thee to thy latest years!Thee, neither know I, nor thy peers;And yet my eyes are filled with tears
The Prelude: Book 2: School-time (Continued)
© William Wordsworth
Thus far, O Friend! have we, though leaving muchUnvisited, endeavour'd to retraceMy life through its first years, and measured backThe way I travell'd when I first beganTo love the woods and fields; the passion yetWas in its birth, sustain'd, as might befal,By nourishment that came unsought, for still,From week to week, from month to month, we liv'dA round of tumult: duly were our gamesProlong'd in summer till the day-light fail'd;No chair remain'd before the doors, the benchAnd threshold steps were empty; fast asleepThe Labourer, and the old Man who had sate,A later lingerer, yet the revelryContinued, and the loud uproar: at last,When all the ground was dark, and the huge cloudsWere edged with twinkling stars, to bed we went,With weary joints, and with a beating mind
Ode: Intimations of Immortality from Recollections of Early Childhood
© William Wordsworth
The child is father of the man;And I could wish my days to be Bound each to each by natural piety. (Wordsworth, "My Heart Leaps Up")
Elegiac Stanzas Suggested by a Picture of Peele Castle in a Storm, Painted by Sir George Beaumont
© William Wordsworth
I was thy neighbour once, thou rugged Pile!Four summer weeks I dwelt in sight of thee:I saw thee every day; and all the whileThy Form was sleeping on a glassy sea.
I. W. To her Unconstant Lover
© Isabella Whitney
As close as you your wedding kept, yet now the truth I hear,Which you (ere now) might me have told -- what need you nay to swear?
The Admonition by the Author to all Young Gentlewomen: And to all other Maids being in Love
© Isabella Whitney
Ye Virgins, ye from Cupid's tents do bear away the foil,Whose hearts as yet with raging love most painfully do boil.
America
© Whitfield James Monroe
America , it is to thee,Thou boasted land of liberty, --It is to thee I raise my song,Thou land of blood, and crime, and wrong
Oh Mother of a Mighty Race
© William Cullen Bryant
OH mother of a mighty race
Yet lovely in thy youthful grace!
The elder dames thy haughty peers
Admire and hate thy blooming years.
With words of shame 5
And taunts of scorn they join thy name.
Albion's England
© William Warner
The Brutons thus departed hence, seven kingdoms here begun,--Where diversely in divers broils the Saxons lost and won,--King Edel and king Adelbright in Diria jointly reign;In loyal concord during life these kingly friends remain
St. Augustine and Monica
© Turner Charles (Tennyson)
When Monica's young son had felt her kiss --Her weeping kiss -- for years, her sorrow flowedAt last into his wilful blood; he owedTo her his after-life of truth and bliss:And her own joy, what words, what thoughts could paint!When o'er his soul, with sweet constraining force,Came Penitence -- a fusion from remorse --And made her boy a glorious Christian saint
The Mute Lovers On the Railway Journey
© Turner Charles (Tennyson)
They bade farwell; but neither spoke of love
Epitaph in Ballade Form which Villon Made for Himself
© Thorley Wilfred Charles
O brother men that live when we have end, Let not your hearts 'gainst us be hardenynge;For if on us your pitie ye doe spend, Likewyse to you shall Godde be pityinge
Ballade Made for his Mother that She mighte Praye toe our Ladye
© Thorley Wilfred Charles
Ladye of heaven that o'er earth hath swaye And of Hell's marshes art most Royal Reeve,Grant toe thy humble Christian that doth praye
Lost Mistress
© Elizabeth Barrett Browning
All's over, then: does truth sound bitter
As one at first believes?
Hark, 'tis the sparrows' good-night twitter
About your cottage eaves!
Locksley Hall Sixty Years After
© Alfred Tennyson
Late, my grandson! half the morning have I paced these sandy tracts,Watch'd again the hollow ridges roaring into cataracts,
In Memoriam A. H. H. OBIIT MDCCCXXXIII: 131
© Alfred Tennyson
O living will that shalt endure When all that seems shall suffer shock, Rise in the spiritual rock,Flow thro' our deeds and make them pure,
In Memoriam A. H. H. OBIIT MDCCCXXXIII [all 133 poems]
© Alfred Tennyson
[Preface] Whom we, that have not seen thy face, By faith, and faith alone, embrace,Believing where we cannot prove;
