It is the glory and good of Art
That Art remains the one way possible
Of speaking truth,--to mouths like mine, at least.
There is no truer truth obtainable
By Man than comes of music.
Hark! Hark! my soul, angelic songs are swelling
O'er earth's green fields and ocean's wave-beat shore;
How sweet the truth those blessed strains are telling
Of that new life when sin shall be no more.
But the sunshine aye shall light the sky,
As round and round we run;
And the truth shall ever come uppermost,
And justice shall be done.
Cannon-balls may aid the truth
But thought's a weapon stronger;
We'll win our battles by its aid,
Wait a little longer.
I slept, and dreamed that life was Beauty;
I woke, and found that life was Duty.
Was thy dream then a shadowy lie?
Toil on, poor heart, unceasingly;
And thou shalt find thy dream to be
A truth and noonday light to thee.
Who never doubted never half believed
Where doubt there truth is--'t is her shadow.
Music tells no truths.
Poets are all who love, who feel great truths,
And tell them; and the truth of truths is love.
This was the truest warrior
That ever buckled sword;
This the most gifted poet
That ever breathed a word;
And never earth's philosopher
Traced with his golden pen
On the deathless page truths half so sage
As he wrote down for men.
Great truths are portions of the soul of man;
Great souls are portions of eternity.
Who speaks the truth stabs Falsehood to the heart.
Once to every man and nation comes the moment to decide,
In the strife of Truth with Falsehood, for the good or evil side;
Truth forever on the scaffold, Wrong forever on the throne.
Then to side with Truth is noble when we share her wretched crust,
Ere her cause bring fame and profit, and 't is prosperous to be just;
Then it is the brave man chooses, while the coward stands aside,
Doubting in his abject spirit, till his Lord is crucified.
Wut's words to them whose faith an' truth
On war's red techstone rang true metal;
Who ventered life an' love an' youth
For the gret prize o' death in battle?
He who has truth at his heart need never fear the want of persuasion on his tongue.
Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord;
He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored;
He hath loosed the fateful lightning of His terrible, swift sword;
His truth is marching on.
For want of me the world's course will not fail;
When all its work is done the lie shall rot;
The truth is great and shall prevail
When none cares whether it prevail or not.
Irrationally held truths may be more harmful than reasoned errors.
It is the customary fate of new truths to begin as heresies
and to end as superstitions.
Life and the Universe show spontaneity;
Down with ridiculous notions of Deity!
Churches and creeds are lost in the mists;
Truth must be sought with the Positivists.
But O the truth, the truth! the many eyes
That look on it! the diverse things they see!
The well of true wit is truth itself.
We too often forget that not only is there "a soul of goodness in things evil,"but very generally a soul of truth in things erroneous.