Truth

The truth will prevail, how true those words are. People may think they can get away with not telling the truth but at the end of the day it does catch up with them. It may take a while but the truth always wins. Some people think a little white lie can't hurt anything but even a little white lie can cause damage in ways you may not realize. The impact of not telling the truth not only affects other people but affects your character and your reputation. Daniel Colesworthy's poem states it like it is, the truth will prevail! Be encouraged by these poems by Daniel C. Colesworthy.

Famous Poems Of Encouragement    /   truth


Truth
Poet: Daniel C. Colesworthy


Truth will prevail, though men abhor
The glory of its light,
And wage exterminating war
And put all foes to flight.

Though trodden under foot of men,
Truth from the dust will spring,
And from the press - the lip - the pen -
In tones of thunder ring.

Beware - beware, ye who resist
The light that beams around,
Lest, ere you look through error's mist,
Truth strikes you to the ground.

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More poems by Daniel Colesworthy about truth:

The Truth
Poet: Daniel C. Colesworthy


The truth, the truth! oh, ever strive,
The holy truth to gain!
Nor think the weakest efforts made
Are ever made in vain.
Search daily in the earth and heaven,
In Nature's works around;
Where'er a note or voice is heard,
Or mortal footstep found.

The truth, the truth! it comes from God:
Search deep, and find it out;
And never dare, if once convinced,
To shut the eyes, and doubt -
Determined, if in Error's path,
That path no more to trace,
Despite the taunts of rebel men,
The mantle of disgrace.

The holy truth! shame, shame to those
Who blindly lead the blind,
And shut the glorious world of light
From the immortal mind!
Shame to the wretch, who, when he knows
Himself he can't sustain,
With colors false, and wily words,
Will strive his end to gain!

Thou who art Truth, teach me the truth;
In wisdom guide, I pray;
That nearer to thyself I come
With every rising day.
Direct, control, in every course;
At morn, at noon, at even:
And clearer light will mark my path,
Because it leads to heaven.


Preach The Truth
Poet: Daniel C. Colesworthy


Fear ye not the face of clay,
Preach the truth;
It will spring another day,
If you're faithful,
And the holy Word obey.

What if scorning men oppose?
Preach the truth,
To your friends and to your foes;
If you're faithful,
These will yield as well as those.

With the message from the skies,
Preach the truth,
To the foolish and the wise:
If you're faithful,
Vice will sink, and virtue rise.

If men hear or men forbear,
Preach the truth;
Truth is never lost in air:
If you're faithful,
You a crown of life shall wear.


I Love The Man
Poet: Daniel C. Colesworthy


I love the man who calmly rests,
When wealth and friends are flown;
Who Virtue, Truth, those heavenly guests,
Securely makes his own;
Who never looks to earth for bliss;
Whose treasure is the skies;
To whom keen Sorrow's dark abyss
Brings no depressive sighs.

I love the man who kindly bears
The haughty tyrant's frown:
Alike to friend and foe he wears
The look of calm renown.
The proud contempt, the conscious slight,
Do not affect his soul:
He's firmer in the truth and right
When Passion's billows roll.

I love the man who freely gives
As Heaven has blest his store;
Who shares the gifts that he receives
With those who need them more;
Whose melting heart of pity moves
O'er sorrow and distress;
Of all his friends, who mostly loves
The poor, the fatherless.

I love the man who scorns to be
To name or sect a slave;
Whose soul is like the sunshine, free
Free as the ocean wave;
Who, when he sees oppression, wrong,
Speaks out in thunder-tones;
Who feels, with Truth, that he is strong
To grapple e'en with thrones.

I love the man who shuns to do
An action mean or low;
Who will a noble course pursue
To stranger, friend and foe;
Who seeks for justice, not for gain;
Is merciful and kind;
Who will not give a needless pain
In body or in mind.

I love the man whose only boast
Is wisdom, virtue, right;
Who feels, if truth is ever lost,
His honor has a blight;
Who ne'er evades by look or sign,
In weal or woe the same:
Methinks the glories are divine
Which cluster round his name.




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