Poems begining by O
/ page 18 of 137 /Ode to Ethiopia
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
O Mother Race! to thee I bring
This pledge of faith unwavering,
This tribute to thy glory.
I know the pangs which thou didst feel,
When Slavery crushed thee with its heel,
With thy dear blood all gory.
On Seeing The Diabutsu--At Kamakura, Japan
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
Long have I searched, Cathedral shrine, and hall,
To find a symbol, from the hand of art,
"O great golden head lie in my lap"
© Lesbia Harford
O great golden head lie in my lap,
Sweet, sweet, lie there.
Sleep and I'll watch thee lest evil behap.
Sweet, sweet and fair.
Of The Nature Of Things: Book II - Part 01 - Proem
© Lucretius
'Tis sweet, when, down the mighty main, the winds
Roll up its waste of waters, from the land
On The Misery Of Soldiers
© Confucius
Yellow now is all the grass;
All the days in marching pass.
On the move is every man;
Hard work, far and near, they plan.
On the Baptized Ethiopian
© Richard Crashaw
Let it no longer be a forlorn hope
To wash an Ethiop :
He's wash'd, his gloomy skin a peaceful shade
For his white soul is made :
And now, I doubt not, the Eternal Dove
A black-faced house will love.
On A Picture
© Jean Ingelow
As a forlorn soul waiting by the Styx
Dimly expectant of lands yet more dim,
Might peer afraid where shadows change and mix
Till the dark ferryman shall come for him.
On Suddenly Receiving A Curl Long Refused
© Vachel Lindsay
Oh, saucy gold circle of fairyland silk
Impudent, intimate, delicate treasure:
A noose for my heart and a ring for my finger:
Here in my study you sing me a measure.
Of Imputed Righteousness
© John Bunyan
Now, if thou wouldst inherit righteousness,
And so sanctification possess
One-Man-One-Vote
© Henry Lawson
ONE-MAN-ONE-VOTE! You hear the people shouting.
The walls of Mammon tremble ere they fall.
ONE-MAN-ONE-VOTE! Is this a time for doubting?
The poets have been prophets after all.
On The Death Of A Child
© Alaric Alexander Watts
Sweet flower! with flowers I strew thy narrow bed!
Sweets to the sweet! Farewell! ~ Shakespeare.
On The River
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
The sun is low,
The waters flow,
My boat is dancing to and fro.
The eve is still,
Yet from the hill
The killdeer echoes loud and shrill.
On the Countess of Burlington Cutting Paper
© Alexander Pope
Pallas grew vapourish once, and odd,
She would not do the least right thing,
Either for goddess, or for god,
Nor work, nor play, nor paint, nor sing.
On the Prodigal
© Richard Crashaw
Tell me, bright boy, tell me, my golden lad,
Whither away so frolic ? why so glad ?
What all thy wealth in council ? all thy state ?
Are husks so dear ? troth 'tis a mighty rate.
On The Morning Of Christs Nativity. Compos'd 1629
© John Milton
I.
This is the month, and this the happy morn,
Wherein the Son of Heavens eternal King,
Of wedded maid and Virgin Mother born,
On The Death Of The Same Revered Nun, The Venerable Mother St. Madeleine , Ten Years Later
© Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon
In Memoriam.
Grief reigns now within the convent walls,
On Ink
© Jonathan Swift
I am jet black, as you may see,
The son of pitch and gloomy night:
Yet all that know me will agree,
I'm dead except I live in light.
Oh, Peggy Was A Jolly Lass
© Louisa May Alcott
'Oh, Peggy was a jolly lass,
Ye heave ho, boys, ye heave ho!