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,

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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years have shedTheir utmost bounty on thy head:And these grey rocks; that household lawn;Those trees, a veil just half withdrawn;This fall of water that doth makeA murmur near the silent lake;This little bay; a quiet roadThat holds in shelter thy Abode--In truth together do ye seemLike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

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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

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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")

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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.

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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?

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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.

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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

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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.

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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

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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

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The Mute Lovers On the Railway Journey

© Turner Charles (Tennyson)

They bade farwell; but neither spoke of love

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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

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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

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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!

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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,

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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,

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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;