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Poems About Lying

Table of Contents

  1. The Boy and the Wolf by John Hookham Frere
  2. The Boy Who Never Told a Lie by Anonymous
  3. A Boy That Told a Lie by Lowell Mason
  4. Echo by Hannah Flagg Gould
  5. A wounded deer leaps highest by Emily Dickinson
  6. The Spider and the Fly by Mary Howitt

LIES

  1. The Boy and the Wolf

    This shows the bad effect of lying,
    And likewise of continual crying.

    – John Hookham Frere
    The Boy and the Wolf
    by John Hookham Frere

    A little Boy was set to keep
    A little flock of goats or sheep;
    He thought the task too solitary,
    And took a strange perverse vagary:
    To call the people out of fun,
    To see them leave their work and run,
    He cried and screamed with all his might, —
    "Wolf! wolf!" in a pretended fright.
    Some people, working at a distance,
    Came running in to his assistance.
    They searched the fields and bushes round,
    The Wolf was nowhere to be found.

    The Boy, delighted with his game,
    A few days after did the same,
    And once again the people came.
    The trick was many times repeated,
    At last they found that they were cheated.
    One day the Wolf appeared in sight,
    The Boy was in a real fright,
    He cried, "Wolf! wolf!" — the neighbors heard,
    But not a single creature stirred.
    "We need not go from our employ, —
    'Tis nothing but that idle boy."
    The little Boy cried out again,
    "Help, help! the Wolf!" he cried in vain.
    At last his master came to beat him.
    He came too late, the Wolf had eat him.

    This shows the bad effect of lying,
    And likewise of continual crying.
    If I had heard you scream and roar,
    For nothing, twenty times before,
    Although you might have broke your arm,
    Or met with any serious harm,
    Your cries could give me no alarm;
    They would not make me move the faster,
    Nor apprehend the least disaster;
    I should be sorry when I came,
    But you yourself would be to blame.

  2. The Boy Who Never Told a Lie

    by Anonymous

    Once there was a little boy,
    With curly hair and pleasant eye—
    A boy who always told the truth,
    And never, never told a lie.

    And when he trotted off to school,
    The children all about would cry,
    "There goes the curly-headed boy—
    The boy that never tells a lie."

    And everybody loved him so,
    Because he always told the truth,
    That every day, as he grew up,
    'Twas said, "There goes the honest youth."

    And when the people that stood near
    Would turn to ask the reason why,
    The answer would be always this:
    "Because he never tells a lie."

  3. A Boy That Told a Lie

    by Lowell Mason

    The mother looked pale, and her face was sad;
    She seemed to have nothing to make her glad;
    She silently sat with the tears in her eye,
    For her dear little boy had told a lie.

    He was a gentle, affectionate child;
    His ways were winning, his temper was mild;
    There was love and joy in the soft blue eye,
    But the dear little boy had told a lie.

    He stood alone by the window within,
    For he felt that his soul was stained with sin;
    And his mother could hear him sob and cry,
    Because he had told her that wicked lie.

    Then he came and stood by his mother’s side,
    And asked for a kiss, which she denied;
    While he promised with many a penitent sigh,
    That he never would tell another lie.

    So she bade him before her kneel gently down,
    And took his soft hands within her own,
    And she kissed his cheek as he looked on high
    And prayed to be pardoned for telling that lie.

  4. DECEPTION

  5. Echo

    "Here, while snares and pit-falls lie
    Round on every part,
    One is calling from on high,
    "Son, give me thy heart!"
    He will ne'er deceive nor mock,
    Fly to Him, the LIVING ROCK!"

    – Hannah Flagg Gould
    Echo
    by Hannah Flagg Gould

    "Father! father! come with me
    Down among the rocks!
    Softly! for I long to see
    Who it is that mocks.
    When I laugh, or sing, or call,
    Some one there repeats it all."

    "Ah! my child, thou dost not know
    All that 's dear and true,
    In this world of noise and show,
    Has its semblance too.
    E'en a sound with joy in it
    Will draw forth its counterfeit.

    "Mid the dissonance of earth
    We so oft must hear,
    Sweet the voice of infant mirth
    Falls upon the ear.
    Mingled innocence and joy!
    Blessed harmony, my boy.

    "And, in heartless mockery,
    Echo now has caught
    Tones of gladness sent from thee;
    While herself is nought
    But the shadow of a sound,
    Thrown from rocks and hills around.

    "Be thou cautioned from to-day;
    For thou yet must meet,
    Here and there on life's rude way,
    Many a fair deceit.
    No illusion seek to trace
    To her seeming dwelling place.

    "Here, while snares and pit-falls lie
    Round on every part,
    One is calling from on high,
    "Son, give me thy heart!"
    He will ne'er deceive nor mock,
    Fly to Him, the LIVING ROCK!"

  6. A wounded deer leaps highest

    by Emily Dickinson

    A wounded deer leaps highest,
    I've heard the hunter tell;
    'T is but the ecstasy of death,
    And then the brake is still.

    The smitten rock that gushes,
    The trampled steel that springs;
    A cheek is always redder
    Just where the hectic stings!

    Mirth is the mail of anguish,
    In which it cautions arm,
    Lest anybody spy the blood
    And "You're hurt" exclaim!

  7. Flattery

  8. The Spider and the Fly

    by Mary Howitt

    "Will you walk into my parlor?" said the Spider to the Fly.
    "'Tis the prettiest little parlor that ever you did spy;
    The way into my parlor is up a winding stair,
    And I have many curious things to show when you are there."
    "Oh no, no," said the little Fly, "to ask me is in vain;
    For who goes up your winding stair can ne'er come down again."

    "I'm sure you must be weary, dear, with soaring up so high;
    Will you rest upon my little bed?" said the Spider to the Fly.
    "There are pretty curtains drawn around, the sheets are fine and thin;
    And if you like to rest a while, I'll snugly tuck you in!"
    "Oh no, no," said the little Fly, "for I've often heard it said,
    They never, never wake again, who sleep upon your bed!"

    Said the cunning Spider to the Fly, "Dear friend, what can I do
    To prove the warm affection I've always felt for you?
    I have, within my pantry, good store of all that's nice;
    I'm sure you're very welcome—will you please to take a slice?"
    "Oh no, no," said the little Fly, "kind sir, that cannot be,
    I've heard what's in your pantry, and I do not wish to see!"

    "Sweet creature," said the Spider, "you're witty and you're wise;
    How handsome are your gauzy wings, how brilliant are your eyes!
    I have a little looking-glass upon my parlor shelf;
    If you'll step in one moment, dear, you shall behold yourself."
    "I thank you, gentle sir," she said, "for what you're pleased to say,
    And bidding you good morning now, I'll call another day."

    The Spider turned him round about, and went into his den,
    For well he knew the silly Fly would soon be back again;
    So he wove a subtle web in a little corner sly,
    And set his table ready to dine upon the Fly.
    Then he came out to his door again, and merrily did sing,—
    "Come hither, hither, pretty Fly, with the pearl and silver wing;
    Your robes are green and purple, there's a crest upon your head;
    Your eyes are like the diamond bright, but mine are dull as lead."

    Alas, alas! how very soon this silly little Fly,
    Hearing his wily, flattering words, came slowly flitting by:
    With buzzing wings she hung aloft, then near and nearer drew,—
    Thinking only of her brilliant eyes, and green and purple hue;
    Thinking only of her crested head—poor foolish thing! At last,
    Up jumped the cunning Spider, and fiercely held her fast.
    He dragged her up his winding stair, into his dismal den
    Within his little parlor—but she ne'er came out again!

    And now, dear little children, who may this story read,
    To idle, silly, flattering words, I pray you ne'er give heed;
    Unto an evil counsellor close heart, and ear, and eye,
    And take a lesson from this tale of the Spider and the Fly.

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