Truth poems
/ page 76 of 257 /A Thanksgiving For F. D. Maurice
© George MacDonald
The veil hath lifted and hath fallen; and him
Who next it stood before us, first so long,
We see not; but between the cherubim
The light burns clearer: come-a thankful song!
Sonnet XVI: To The Lord General Cromwell
© John Milton
Cromwell, our chief of men, who through a cloud
Not of war only, but detractions rude,
Guided by faith and matchless fortitude,
To peace and truth thy glorious way hast plough'd,
Tale II
© George Crabbe
frame.
Yes! old and grieved, and trembling with decay,
Was Allen landing in his native bay,
Willing his breathless form should blend with
Rhymed Plea For Tolerance - Prefatory Dialogue
© John Kenyon
Ye, thus who write in spite of critic law,
How had their satire kept your freaks in awe!
And, to sole sway controlling her pretence,
Bound Fancy down to compromise with Sense!
Fill The Goblet Again: A Song
© George Gordon Byron
Fill the goblet again! for I never before
Felt the glow which now gladdens my heart to its core;
Let us drink!--who would not?--since, through life's varied round,
In the goblet alone no deception is found.
Totem
© Sylvia Plath
The engine is killing the track, the track is silver,
It stretches into the distance. It will be eaten nevertheless.
The Ring And The Book - Chapter X - The Pope
© Robert Browning
Then Stephen, Pope and seventh of the name,
Cried out, in synod as he sat in state,
While choler quivered on his brow and beard,
Come into court, Formosus, thou lost wretch,
That claimedst to be late the Pope as I!
How Mary Grew
© John Greenleaf Whittier
With wisdom far beyond her years,
And graver than her wondering peers,
So strong, so mild, combining still
The tender heart and queenly will,
To conscience and to duty true,
So, up from childhood, Mary Grew!
My Heart Is Like A Withered Nut!
© Caroline Norton
MY heart is like a withered nut,
Rattling within its hollow shell;
You cannot ope my breast, and put
Any thing fresh with it to dwell.
Of Judgement
© John Bunyan
As 'tis appointed men should die,
So judgment is the next
That meets them most assuredly;
For so saith holy text.
The Knight-Errant
© Virna Sheard
Keen in his blood ran the old mad desire
To right the world's wrongs and champion truth;
Deep in his eyes shone a heaven-lit fire,
And royal and radiant day-dreams of youth!
The Aeneid of Virgil: Book 11
© Publius Vergilius Maro
SCARCE had the rosy Morning raisd her head
Above the waves, and left her watry bed;
The Shepherd's Dream: Or, Fairies' Masquerade
© Robert Bloomfield
Scorch'd by the shadeless sun on Indian plains,
Mellow'd by age, by wants, and toils, and pains,
Those toils still lengthen'd when he reach'd that shore
Where Spain's bright mountains heard the cannons roar,
A pension'd veteran, doom'd no more to roam,
With glowing heart thus sung the joys of home.
The Boss Over the Board
© Henry Lawson
When hes over a rough and unpopular shed,
With the sins of the bank and the men on his head;
Le Monocle de Mon Oncle
© Wallace Stevens
Mother of heaven, regina of the clouds,
O sceptre of the sun, crown of the moon,
The Mirror
© Hilaire Belloc
The mirror held your fair, my Fair,
A fickle moment's space.
You looked into mine eyes, and there
For ever fixed your face.
Italy : 2. Meillerie
© Samuel Rogers
These grey majestic cliffs that tower to heaven,
These glimmering glades and open chestnut-groves,
That echo to the heifer's wandering bell,
Or woodman's axe, or steers-man's song beneath,