truth

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truth

Let truth be known
And truth be told
Whether spoken by the young
Or by the tongues of the old

Let truth be given
And never retrieved
Manifesting the blessings
In the honour recieved

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A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness. It finds the thought and the thought finds the words.

Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

myar’s Poems (2)

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twang 0