Poems begining by O
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Onn John A Dalbenie
© Thomas Chatterton
Johne makes a jarre 'boute
Lancaster and Yorke.
Bee stille gode manne,
and learne to mynde thie worke.
One Hundred Love Sonnets: XVII
© Pablo Neruda
I don’t love you as if you were a rose of salt, topaz,
or arrow of carnations that propagate fire:
I love you as one loves certain obscure things,
secretly, between the shadow and the soul.
Of the Progress of the Soul: The Second Anniversary
© John Donne
(excerpt)
OF THE PROGRESS OF THE SOUL
Wherein,
by occasion of the religious death of Mistress
On A View Of Pasadena From The Hills
© Yvor Winters
From the high terrace porch I watch the dawn.
No light appears, though dark has mostly gone,
Out Of The Day
© Edgar Albert Guest
OUT of the day you have taken what,
Crown of laurels and wreath of bay?
O Thou Dread Power
© Robert Burns
O Thou dread Power, who reign'st above,
I know thou wilt me hear,
When for this scene of peace and love
I make this prayer sincere.
Of Old Sat Freedom on the Heights
© Alfred Tennyson
Of old sat Freedom on the heights,
The thunders breaking at her feet:
Above her shook the starry lights:
She heard the torrents meet.
On Summer
© George Moses Horton
Esteville begins to burn;
The auburn fields of harvest rise;
The torrid flames again return,
And thunders roll along the skies.
On the Water of our Lord's Baptism
© Richard Crashaw
Each blest drop on each blest limb,
Is wash't itself, in washing Him :
'Tis a gem while it stays here ;
While it falls hence 'tis a tear.
On Imagination
© Phillis Wheatley
Thy various works, imperial queen, we see,
How bright their forms! how deck'd with pomp by thee!
Thy wond'rous acts in beauteous order stand,
And all attest how potent is thine hand.
On Shakespeare. 1630
© Patrick Kavanagh
What needs my Shakespeare for his honoured bones,
The labor of an age in pilèd stones,
OEnone
© Alfred Tennyson
"Dear mother Ida, harken ere I die.
He smiled, and opening out his milk-white palm
Disclosed a fruit of pure Hesperian gold,
That smelt ambrosially, and while I look'd
And listen'd, the full-flowing river of speech
Came down upon my heart.
"O this air, intoxicated with sedition"
© Osip Emilevich Mandelstam
O this air, intoxicated with sedition,
On the black square of the Kremlin.
The agitators rock the teetering world .
It smells of restless poplars.
On Stella's Birth-day
© Jonathan Swift
Stella this Day is thirty four,
(We won't dispute a Year or more)
On Seeing the Ladies Crux-Easton Walk in the Woods by the Grotto.
© Alexander Pope
Authors the world and their dull brains have traced
To fix the ground where Paradise was placed;
Mind not their learned whims and idle talk;
Here, here's the place where these bright angels walk.
On The Mountain
© Isabel Ecclestone Mackay
THE top of the world and an empty morning,
Mist sweeping in from the dim Outside,
The door of day just a little bit open--
The wind's great laugh as he flings it wide!
O Tan-Faced Prairie-Boy
© Walt Whitman
O tan-faced prairie-boy,
Before you came to camp came many a welcome gift,
Praises and presents came and nourishing food, till at last among the recruits,
You came, taciturn, with nothing to give we but lookd on each other,
When lo! more than all the gifts of the world you gave me.
On Mrs. Montague's Feather Hangings
© William Cowper
The Birds put off their every hue,
To dress a room for Montagu.
Over The Carnage
© Walt Whitman
OVER the carnage rose prophetic a voice,
Be not dishearten'd-Affection shall solve the problems of Freedom
yet;
Those who love each other shall become invincible-they shall yet
make Columbia victorious.
