Poems begining by O
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Ode
© Mathurin Regnier
Jamais ne pourray-je bannir
Hors de moy l'ingrat souvenir
De ma gloire si tost passee?
Toujours pour nourrir mon soucy.
Amour, cet enfant sans mercy,
L'offrira-t-il a ma pensee!
Ode to Salvador Dali
© Federico Garcia Lorca
A rose in the high garden you desire.
A wheel in the pure syntax of steel.
The mountain stripped bare of Impressionist fog,
The grays watching over the last balustrades.
On A Young Lady
© Hannah More
Go, peaceful shade! exchange for sin and care
The glorious palm which patient suff'rers wear!
Ode To Lycoris. May 1817
© William Wordsworth
I
AN age hath been when Earth was proud
Of lustre too intense
To be sustained; and Mortals bowed
Our Yankee Girls
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
LET greener lands and bluer skies,
If such the wide earth shows,
Ode To Napoleon Buonaparte
© George Gordon Byron
'Expends Annibalem:--quot libras in duce summo
Invenies?~JUVENAL., Sat. X.
On The Death Of Mr Aikman
© James Thomson
Oh, could I draw, my friend, thy genuine mind,
Just as the living forms by thee designed;
Our Abode In Arby Wood
© William Barnes
Though ice do hang upon the willows
Out bezide the vrozen brook,
On The Purple And White Carnation
© Caroline Norton
She spoke, and wept; and the echo again
Repeated the curse, but all in vain--
The tyrant laughed as he fluttered away,
Spreading his rainbow wings to the day,
And settling at random his feathered darts
To spoil sweet flowers, or break fond hearts.
Object of My First Desire
© Augustus Montague Toplady
Object of my first desire,-
Jesus, crucified for me;-
On The Death Of President Garfield
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
FALLEN with autumn's falling leaf
Ere yet his summer's noon was past,
Our friend, our guide, our trusted chief,--
What words can match a woe so vast!
Only A Smile
© Mathilde Blind
No butterfly whose frugal fare
Is breath of heliotrope and clove,
And other trifles light as air,
Could live on less than doth my love.
O, Falmouth Is a Fine Town
© William Ernest Henley
In Baltimore a-walking a lady I did meet
With her babe on her arm as she came down the street;
And I thought how I sailed, and the cradle standing ready
For the pretty little babe that has never seen its daddie.
And it's home, dearie, home,-
On the Death of the Right Hounourable ---
© Oliver Goldsmith
YE Muses, pour the pitying tear
For Pollio snatch'd away;
O! had he liv'd another year!-
'He had not died to-day'.
On An Apple-Ripe September Morning
© Patrick Kavanagh
On an apple-ripe September morning
Through the mist-chill fields I went
With a pitch-fork on my shoulder
Less for use than for devilment.
On Snow
© Jonathan Swift
From Heaven I fall, though from earth I begin,
No lady alive can show such a skin.
I'm bright as an angel, and light as a feather,
But heavy and dark, when you squeeze me together.
Outward Bound
© Thomas Bailey Aldrich
I leave behind me the elm-shadowed square
And carven portals of the silent street,
On The Promotion Of Edward Thurlow, Esq. To The Lord High Chancellorship Of England
© William Cowper
Round Thurlow's head in early youth,
And in his sportive days,
Fair science poured the light of truth,
And genius shed his rays.
