Poems begining by O
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One Talent
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
In a napkin smooth and white,
Hidden from all mortal sight,
My one talent lies to-night.
Oh say not that my heart is cold
© Charles Wolfe
Oh say not that my heart is cold
To aught that once could warm it -
Orpheus In The Underworld
© David Gascoyne
Curtains of rock
And tears of stone,
Wet leaves in a high crevice of the sky:
From side to side the draperies
Drawn back by rigid hands.
On A Celebrated Event In Ancient History
© William Wordsworth
A ROMAN Master stands on Grecian ground,
And to the people at the Isthmian Games
Assembled, He, by a herald's voice, proclaims
THE LIBERTY OF GREECE:--the words rebound
On A Similar Character (From The Greek)
© William Cowper
You give your cheks a rosy stain,
With washes dye your hair;
But paint and washes both are vain
To give a youthful air.
On Receiving A Curious Shell
© John Keats
Hast thou from the caves of Golconda, a gem
Pure as the ice-drop that froze on the mountain?
Bright as the humming-bird's green diadem,
When it flutters in sun-beams that shine through a fountain?
Our Dum'd Animals
© Franklin Pierce Adams
What time I seek my virtuous couch to steal
Some surcease from the labours of the day,
Ere silence like a poultice comes to heal--
In short, when I prepare to hit the hay;
Ere slumber's chains (I quote from Moore) have bound me,
I hear a lot of noises all around me.
On An Engraving Of Hindoo Temples
© Letitia Elizabeth Landon
LITTLE the present careth for the past,
Too little'tis not well!
For careless ones we dwell
Beneath the mighty shadow it has cast.
On The Death Of Joseph Rodman Drake
© Fitz-Greene Halleck
Green be the turf above thee,
Friend of my better days!
None knew thee but to love thee,
Nor named thee but to praise.
On The Two Bridal-Biers
© Dante Gabriel Rossetti
How sweet a solace is the bridal-bed
Dawn as prepared, evening as hallowèd
On The Dark Height of Jura
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
I.
Ghosts of the dead! have I not heard your yelling
Rise on the night-rolling breath of the blast,
When oer the dark aether the tempest is swelling,
And on eddying whirlwind the thunder-peal passed?
On A Shadow In A Glass
© Jonathan Swift
By something form'd, I nothing am,
Yet everything that you can name;
In no place have I ever been,
Yet everywhere I may be seen;
"On a sleigh, padded with straw"
© Osip Emilevich Mandelstam
On a sleigh, padded with straw,
Barely covered by the fateful mat,
From the Vorobevy hills to the familiar chapel
We rode through enormous Moscow.
On An Autumn Sketch Of H.G. Wild
© James Russell Lowell
Thanks to the artist, ever on my wall
The sunset stays: that hill in glory rolled,
On Seeing Weather Beaten Trees
© Adelaide Crapsey
Is it as plainly in our living shown,
By slant and twist, which way the wind has blown?
On My Son's Return Out Of England, July 17, 1661.
© Anne Bradstreet
All Praise to him who hath now turn'd
My feares to Joyes, my sighes to song,
On Leaving A Village In Scotland
© William Lisle Bowles
Clysdale! as thy romantic vales I leave,
And bid farewell to each retiring hill,
