Truth poems

 / page 72 of 257 /
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In Age

© Edith Nesbit

The wine of life was rough and new,
But sweet beyond belief,
And wrong was false, and right was true -
The rose was in the leaf.

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Lakshman

© Toru Dutt

"Hark! Lakshman! Hark, again that cry!

 It is, - it is my husband's voice!

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Ode IX: To Curio

© Mark Akenside

I.

Thrice hath the spring beheld thy faded fame 

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The Pig's Tale

© Lewis Carroll

Little Birds are dining
Warily and well,
Hid in mossy cell: Hid, I say, by waiters
Gorgeous in their gaiters-
I've a Tale to tell.

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Aurora Leigh: Book Niinth

© Elizabeth Barrett Browning


An active kind of curse. I stood there cursed,
Confounded. I had seized and caught the sense
Of the letter, with its twenty stinging snakes,
In a moment's sweep of eyesight, and I stood
Dazed.-"Ah! not married."

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Darrynane

© Denis Florence MacCarthy

Where foams the white torrent, and rushes the rill,

Down the murmuring slopes of the echoing hill-

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The Negro Schools

© Lizelia Augusta Jenkins Moorer

Please be silent now, my country, while I fill the speaker's place;
While I point out some abuses that we constantly embrace,
Listen with your best attention to the words that I shall say,
How the Negro schools are managed, in this Commonwealth today.

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Ashtaroth: A Dramatic Lyric

© Adam Lindsay Gordon

Orion: But an understanding tacit.
You have prospered much since the day we met;
You were then a landless knight;
You now have honour and wealth, and yet
I never can serve you right.

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Esther, A Sonnet Sequence: XXXV

© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

``Silence. I will not listen!'' ``And for what?''
She added strangely, in a softer mood.
``You see I am not angry. Do you not?
Only soft--hearted, and alas! too good.

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Marguerite de Roberval

© Isabel Ecclestone Mackay

  Ah, my dear!
I saw you die, and could not help or save–
Knowing myself to be the awful care
That weighed thee to thy grave!

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Book Eleventh: France [concluded]

© William Wordsworth

  But indignation works where hope is not,
And thou, O Friend! wilt be refreshed. There is
One great society alone on earth:
The noble Living and the noble Dead.

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Phantasies

© Emma Lazarus

Rest, beauty, stillness: not a waif of a cloud
From gray-blue east sheer to the yellow west-
No film of mist the utmost slopes to shroud.

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February Morning

© Robert Laurence Binyon

Peacefully fresh, O February morn,
Thy winds come to me: quiet the light slants
Through silver--bosomed clouds, that slowly borne
Across the wide heath, endlessly advance.

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The Black Shawl

© Alexander Pushkin

As of senses bereft, at a black shawl I stare,

And my chill heart is tortured with deadly despair.

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Sonnet 60: :Like as the waves make towards the pebbl'd shore..."

© William Shakespeare

Like as the waves make towards the pebbl'd shore,

So do our minutes hasten to their end;

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The Lady, the Knight, and the Friar

© Thomas Love Peacock

O cavalier! what dost thou here,
Thy tuneful vigils keeping;
While the northern star looks cold from far
And half the world is sleeping?

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Humanity

© Charles Harpur

I dreamed I was a sculptor, and had wrought

Out of a towering adamantine crag

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Queen Mab: Part IV.

© Percy Bysshe Shelley

'How beautiful this night! the balmiest sigh,

  Which vernal zephyrs breathe in evening's ear,

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Ode to Duty

© William Wordsworth

. Stern Daughter of the Voice of God!

 O Duty! if that name thou love

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Ruth

© Henry Lawson

Are the fields of my fancy less fair through a window that’s narrowed and barred?
Are the morning stars dimmed by the glare of the gas-light that flares in the yard?
No! And what does it matter to me if to-morrow I sail from the land?
I am free, as I never was free! I exult in my loneliness grand!