Poems begining by O
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Of The Nature Of Things: Book II - Part 05 - Infinite Worlds
© Lucretius
Once more, we all from seed celestial spring,
To all is that same father, from whom earth,
On The Nature Of Love
© Rabindranath Tagore
The night is black and the forest has no end;
a million people thread it in a million ways.
Our Fathers Business:
© Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
O CHRIST-CHILD, Everlasting, Holy One,
Sufferer of all the sorrow of this world,
Redeemer of the sin of all this world,
Who by Thy death brought'st life into this world,--
O Christ, hear us!
On A Figure Of Justice With Bound Eyes
© Robert Laurence Binyon
Unhappy goddess! Has then envious earth
Denied thine eyes the radiance of thy birth?
Have mortals, that still need thy voice to school
Their wrangling lives, their daily feuds to rule,
On Finding a Turtle Shell in Daniel Boone National Forest by Jeff Worley : American Life in Poetry #
© Ted Kooser
A poem is an experience like any other, and we can learn as much or more about, say, an apple from a poem about an apple as from the apple itself. Since I was a boy, I’ve been picking up things, but I’ve never found a turtle shell until I found one in this poem by Jeff Worley, who lives in Kentucky.
On Finding a Turtle Shell in Daniel Boone National Forest
This one got tired
Over The Hills
© Edward Thomas
Often and often it came back again
To mind, the day I passed the horizon ridge
"O sweet and fair! These words are mine to use"
© Lesbia Harford
O sweet and fair! These words are mine to use.
O sweet and fair! A year ago I'ld choose
Some better words of praise
Than sweet and fair.
On The Life And Death Of Man
© Francis Quarles
The world's a theatre. The earth, a stage
Placed in the midst: where both prince and page,
On Mrs. Ar: F: Leaving London
© Thomas Parnell
From Town fair Arabella flies,
The Beaux unpowder'd grieve,
One Of Times Riddles
© Dante Gabriel Rossetti
IN her deep bosom the pride settled down
That pride which is a brackish thing like salt;
Ode On The Istallation of the Duke of Devonshire
© Charles Kingsley
Hence a while, severer Muses;
Spare your slaves till drear October.
Oh, Timballoo! How Happy We Are
© Louisa May Alcott
"Oh, Timballoo! how happy we are,
We live in a sieve and a crockery jar!
On a Fan of the Author's Design
© Alexander Pope
Come gentle Air! th' AEolian shepherd said,
While Procris panted in the secret shade:
Of Hell And The Estate of Those Who Perish
© John Bunyan
hus, having show'd you what I see
Of heaven, I now will tell
You also, after search, what be
The damned wights of hell.
