Truth poems

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The Lost Path

© Thomas Osborne Davis

AIR--_Grádh mo chroidhe._


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Two Hours In Reservoir

© Joseph Brodsky

I am an anti-fascist... anti-Faust
Ich liebe life and I admire chaos
Ich bin to wish, Genosse Offizieren,
Dem Zeit zum Faust for a while spazieren.

2

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Memories

© John Greenleaf Whittier

A beautiful and happy girl,

With step as light as summer air,

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Lucretius

© Alfred Tennyson

Lucilla, wedded to Lucretius, found
Her master cold; for when the morning flush
Of passion and the first embrace had died
Between them, tho' he loved her none the less,

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The Heroic Enthusiasts - Part The First =Fifth Dialogue.=

© Giordano Bruno

CIC. Now show me how I may be able for myself to consider the conditions
of these enthusiasts, through that which appears in the order of the
warfare here described.

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The Weaver

© Anonymous

My life is but a weaving, between my God and me,

I do not choose the colors, He worketh steadily.

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A Legacy

© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

No living atom comes at last to naught!
 Active in each is still the eternal Thought:
 Hold fast to Being if thou wouldst be blest.
 Being is without end; for changeless laws
 Bind that from which the All its glory draws
 Of living treasures endlessly possessed.

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The Buried Flower

© William Edmondstoune Aytoun

In the silence of my chamber,
 When the night is still and deep,
 And the drowsy heave of ocean
 Mutters in its charmed sleep,

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My Doves

© Louisa May Alcott

OPPOSITE my chamber window,

On the sunny roof, at play,

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The Society Upon The Stanislaus

© Francis Bret Harte

I reside at Table Mountain, and my name is Truthful James;
I am not up to small deceit or any sinful games;
And I'll tell in simple language what I know about the row
That broke up our Society upon the Stanislow.

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Habakkuk

© Thomas Parnell

Here terrour leaves me with exalted head,
I breath fine air, and find the vision fled,
The Seer withdrawn, inspir'd, and urg'd to write,
By the warm influence of the sacred sight.

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Spring Flowers From Ireland

© Denis Florence MacCarthy

On receiving an early crocus and some violets in a letter from Ireland.

Within the letter's rustling fold

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A Picture

© Frances Anne Kemble

Through the half-open'd casement stream'd the light

  Of the departing sun. The golden haze

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Manna Hoarded

© John Newton

The manna favored Israel's meat,
Was gathered day by day;
When all the host was served, the heat
Melted the rest away.

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Written For My Son, In A Bible Which Was Presented To Him.

© Mary Barber

Welcome, thou sacred, solemn Guest,
Who com'st to guide me to the Blest.
O Fountain of eternal Truth,
Thou gracious Guardian of my Youth!

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Utterance

© John Greenleaf Whittier

But what avail inadequate words to reach

The innermost of Truth? Who shall essay,

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Shooting

© Henry James Pye

  The Monarch hears, and with reluctant eyes
  Gives the consent his boding heart denies;
  His brow a placid guise dissembling wears,
  While Reason vainly combats stronger fears.

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Epitaph On Thomas Parnell

© Oliver Goldsmith

THIS tomb, inscrib'd to gentle Parnell's name,

May speak our gratitude, but not his fame.

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And What Have You To Say?

© Henry Lawson

I MIND the days when ladies fair
  Helped on my overcoat,
And tucked the silken handkerchief
  About my precious throat;
They used to see the poet’s soul
  In every song I wrote.