Poems begining by O
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O Love! Thou Makest All Things Even
© Sarah Flower Adams
O Love! thou makest all things even
In earth or heaven;
On Christina Rossetti
© Dante Gabriel Rossetti
THERE'S a female bard, grim as a fakier,
Who daily grows shakier and shakier.
One Shall Be Taken And The Other Left
© Aline Murray Kilmer
THERE is no Rachel any more
And so it does not really matter.
On Seeing Anthony, The Eldest Child Of Lord And Lady Ashley
© Caroline Norton
And seeing thee, thou lovely boy,
My soul, reproach'd, gave up its schemes
Of worldly triumph's heartless joy,
For purer and more sinless dreams,
And mingled in my farewell there
Something of blessing and of prayer.
Oscar Of Alva: A Tale
© George Gordon Byron
How sweetly shines through azure skies,
The lamp of heaven on Lora's shore;
Where Alva's hoary turrets rise,
And hear the din of arms no more!
Old Friends
© Edgar Albert Guest
I do not say new friends are not considerate and true,
Or that their smiles ain't genuine, but still I'm tellin' you
Our Indian Summer
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
You 'll believe me, dear boys, 't is a pleasure to rise,
With a welcome like this in your darling old eyes;
To meet the same smiles and to hear the same tone
Which have greeted me oft in the years that have flown.
Of The Nature Of Things: Book VI - Part 04 - The Plague Athens
© Lucretius
'Twas such a manner of disease, 'twas such
Mortal miasma in Cecropian lands
On Exaggerated Deference To Foreign Literary Opinion
© William Watson
What! and shall _we_, with such submissive airs
As age demands in reverence from the young,
On An Old Sepuchral Bas-Relief
© Giacomo Leopardi
WHERE IS SEEN A YOUNG MAIDEN, DEAD, IN THE ACT OF DEPARTING,
TAKING LEAVE OF HER FAMILY.
On Being Asked What Was The 'Origin Of Love'
© George Gordon Byron
The 'Origin of Love!'--Ah why
That cruel question ask of me,
When thou may'st read in many an eye
He starts to life on seeing thee?
Our Fathers of Old
© Rudyard Kipling
Excellent herbs had our fathers of old-
Excellent herbs to ease their pain-
On The Threshold
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
AN usher standing at the door
I show my white rosette;
A smile of welcome, nothing more,
Will pay my trifling debt;
Why should I bid you idly wait
Like lovers at the swinging gate?
On the death of that most excellent lady,
© Sor Juana Ines de la Cruz
(Español)
Mueran contigo, Laura, pues moriste,
los afectos que en vano te desean,
los ojos a quien privas de que vean
hermosa luz que a un tiempo concediste.
On Robert Emmet's Grave
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
VI.
No trump tells thy virtuesthe grave where they rest
With thy dust shall remain unpolluted by fame,
Till thy foes, by the world and by fortune caressed,
Shall pass like a mist from the light of thy name.
On the Same - (On the Burning of Lord Mansfield's Library)
© William Cowper
When wit and genius meet their doom
In all devouring flame,
They tell us of the fate of Rome,
And bid us fear the same.
Our First War-Christmas
© Katharine Lee Bates
HARD to wait for the postman's tramp
Up the snowy walk, for the hand that gropes
