Poems begining by O
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O Carib Isle!
© Hart Crane
And yet suppose
I count these nacreous frames of tropic death,
Brutal necklaces of shells around each grave
Squared off so carefully. Then
(Over the green and yellow...)
© Anselm Hollo
I
Over the green and yellow rice fields sweep the shadows of the autumn clouds, followed by the swift-chasing sun.
The bees forget to sip their honey; drunken with the light they foolishly hum and hover; and the ducks in the sandy riverbank clamour in joy for mere nothing.
Ode, Inscribed to William H. Channing
© Ralph Waldo Emerson
Though loath to grieve
The evil time's sole patriot,
I cannot leave
My honied thought
For the priest's cant,
Or statesman's rant.
Only a Dad
© Edgar Albert Guest
Only a dad, with a tired face,
Coming home from the daily race,
Bringing little of gold or fame,
To show how well he has played the game,
But glad in his heart that his own rejoice
To see him come, and to hear his voice.
On Seeing the Elgin Marbles
© John Keats
My spirit is too weak—mortality
Weighs heavily on me like unwilling sleep,
On Spies
© Benjamin Jonson
Spies, you are lights in state, but of base stuff,
Who, when you’ve burnt yourselves down to the snuff,
Stink and are thrown away. End fair enough.
On The Western Front
© Alfred Noyes
I found a dreadful acre of the dead,
Marked with the only sign on earth that saves.
The wings of death were hurrying overhead,
The loose earth shook on those unquiet graves;
On Pedigree. From Epicharmus
© William Cowper
My mother! if thou love me, name no more
My noble birth! Sounding at every breath
Of The Nature Of Things: Book V - Part 04 - Formation Of The World
© Lucretius
But in what modes that conflux of first-stuff
Did found the multitudinous universe
O Tibbie, I Hae Seen The Day
© Robert Burns
Choir. - O Tibbie, I hae seen the day,
Ye wadna been sae shy;
For laik o' gear ye lightly me,
But, trowth, I care na by.
(O you mad, you superbly drunk!...)
© Anselm Hollo
I have wasted my days and nights in the company of steady wise neighbors.
Much knowing has turned my hair grey, and much watching has made my sight dim.
For years I have gathered and heaped all scraps and fragments of things;
Crush them and dance upon them, and scatter them all to the winds!
For I know tis the height of wisdom to be drunken and go to the dogs.
On Reading Crowds and Power
© Geoffrey Hill
1
Cloven, we are incorporate, our wounds
simple but mysterious. We have
some wherewithal to bide our time on earth.
Old Tunes
© Henry Lawson
WHEN friends are listening round me, Jack, to hear my dying breath,
And I am lying in a sleep they say will end in death,
Dont notice what the doctor saysand let the nurse complain
Ill tell you how to rouse me if Ill ever wake again.
Of Modern Books
© Carolyn Wells
(A Pantoum)
Of making many books there is no end,
Though myriads have to deep oblivion gone;
Each day new manuscripts are being penned,
And still the ceaseless tide of ink flows on.
Olney Hymn 13: The Covenant
© William Cowper
The Lord proclaims His grace abroad!
"Behold, I change your hearts of stone;
Each shall renounce his idol-god,
And serve, henceforth, the Lord alone.
On the Seashore
© Anselm Hollo
On the seashore of endless worlds children meet.
The infinite sky is motionless overhead and the restless water is boisterous. On the seashore of endless worlds the children meet with shouts and dances.
They build their houses with sand, and they play with empty shells. With withered leaves they weave their boats and smilingly float them on the vast deep. Children have their play on the seashore of worlds.
They know not how to swim, they know not how to cast nets. Pearl-fishers dive for pearls, merchants sail in their ships, while children gather pebbles and scatter them again. They seek not for hidden treasures, they know not how to cast nets.
The sea surges up with laughter, and pale gleams the smile of the sea-beach. Death-dealing waves sing meaningless ballads to the children, even like a mother while rocking her baby's cradle. The sea plays with children, and pale gleams the smile of the sea-beach.
On the seashore of endless worlds children meet. Tempest roams in the pathless sky, ships are wrecked in the trackless water, death is abroad and children play. On the seashore of endless worlds is the great meeting of children.
Odysseus' Fate
© Konstantin Nikolaevich Batiushkov
Through horrors of land and horrors of sea
Bereft and wandering, Odysseus,
On the Beach at Night
© Walt Whitman
On the beach at night,
Stands a child with her father,
Watching the east, the autumn sky.
