Poems begining by O

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137

On The Death Of A Friend's Child

© James Russell Lowell

Death never came so nigh to me before,

Nor showed me his mild face: oft had I mused

On An Infant (From The Greek)

© William Cowper

Bewail not much, my parents! me, the prey

Of ruthless Ades, and sepulchred here.

Obsessive Combination Of Onotological Inscape, Trickery And Love

© Anne Sexton

Busy, with an idea for a code, I write
signals hurrying from left to right,
or right to left, by obscure routes,
for my own reasons; taking a word like writes

Turn back to Malthus as he walked o'er English Fields and Downs
And walked at night the crooked Streets of crooked English Towns,
Lifeless, undying, Shade or Man, as one that could not die
A hundred years his Shadow fell, a hundred Years to lie,
The Shadow on the Window Pane when Malthus' Ghost went by.

One Day

© Rupert Brooke

So lightly I played with those dark memories,
Just as a child, beneath the summer skies,
Plays hour by hour with a strange shining stone,
For which (he knows not) towns were fire of old,
And love has been betrayed, and murder done,
And great kings turned to a little bitter mould.

Overture To A Dance Of Locomotives

© William Carlos Williams

Men with picked voices chant the names
of cities in a huge gallery: promises
that pull through descending stairways
to a deep rumbling.

Ode To Dragon

© Hannah More

Dragon! since lyrics are the mode,
To thee I dedicate my Ode,
And reason good I plead:
Are those who cannot write, to blame
To draw their hopes of future fame,
From those who cannot read?

O, how sad

© Saigyo

O, how sad!
Why of visitors
Should there be not one?
In melancholy, where I dwell
The wind comes upon the bush-clover leaves.

One Song, America, Before I Go

© Walt Whitman

ONE song, America, before I go,
I'd sing, o'er all the rest, with trumpet sound,
For thee-the Future.

Old Fighting-Men

© Rudyard Kipling

All the world over, nursing their scars,
Sit the old fighting-men broke in the wars-
Sit the old fighting-men, surly and grim
Mocking the lilt of the conquerors' hymn.

Ode To Sadness

© Pablo Neruda

Sadness, scarab
with seven crippled feet,
spiderweb egg,
scramble-brained rat,

Ode To Sleep

© Paul Hamilton Hayne

With a gray fleetness, moaning the dead day;
The wings of Silence overfolding space,
Droop with dusk grandeur from the heavenly steep,
And through the stillness gleams thy starry face,
Serenest Angel--Sleep!

Ode to Valour

© Mary Darby Robinson

Inscribed to Colonel Banastre Tarleton]
TRANSCENDENT VALOUR! godlike Pow'r!
Lord of the dauntless breast, and stedfast mien!
Who, rob'd in majesty sublime,

Ode to the Nightingale

© Mary Darby Robinson

Restless and sadI sought once more
A calm retreat on BRITAIN's shore;
Deceitful HOPE, e'en there I found
That soothing FRIENDSHIP's specious name
Was but a short-liv'd empty sound,
And LOVE a false delusive flame.

Ode to the Muse

But, if thy magic pow'rs impart
One soft sensation to the heart,
If thy warm precepts can dispense
One thrilling transport o'er my sense;
Oh! keep thy gifts, and let me fly,
In APATHY's cold arms to die.

Ode to the Moon

PALE GODDESS of the witching hour;
Blest Contemplation's placid friend;
Oft in my solitary bow'r,
I mark thy lucid beam
From thy crystal car descend,
Whitening the spangled heath, and limpid sapphire stream.

Ode to Reflection

O, tell me, what are life's best joys?
Are they not visions that decay,
Sweet honey'd poisons, gilded toys,
Vain glitt'ring baubles of a day?
O say what shadow do they leave behind,
Save the sad vacuum of the sated mind?

Ode to Meditation

SWEET CHILD OF REASON! maid serene;
With folded arms, and pensive mien,
Who wand'ring near yon thorny wild,
So oft, my length'ning hours beguil'd;

Ode to Health

O, mem'ry! busy barb'rous foe,
At thy fell touch I wake to woe:
Alas! the flatt'ring dream is o'er,
From thee the bright illusions fly,
Thou bidst the glitt'ring phantoms die,
And hope, and youth, and fancy, charm no more.

Ode to Envy

Deep in th' abyss where frantic horror bides,
In thickest mists of vapours fell,
Where wily Serpents hissing glare
And the dark Demon of Revenge resides,