Poems begining by O

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One Who Is Dead

© Dora Sigerson Shorter

Never again, my darling, never again,

Till the gates of God are open for me to pass,

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Out Of It All

© Edgar Albert Guest

Out of it all shall come splendor and gladness;
  Out of the madness and out of the sadness,
  Clearer and finer the world shall arise.
  Why then keep sorrow and doubt in your eyes?

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Ode To Liberty

© Henry James Pye

O liberty! celestial maid!

  Where has thy vagrant fancy stray'd?

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On Leaping Over the Moon

© Thomas Traherne

As much as others thought themselves to lie
Beneath the moon, so much more high
Himself he thought to fly
Above the starry sky,
As that he spied
Below the tide.

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On the Death of Mr. Crashaw

© Abraham Cowley

Poet and Saint! to thee alone are given

 The two most sacred names of earth and heaven,

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On Those That Hated The 'Playboy Of The Western World,' 1907

© William Butler Yeats

Once, when midnight smote the air,
Eunuchs ran through Hell and met
On every crowded street to stare
Upon great Juan riding by:
Even like these to rail and sweat
Staring upon his sinewy thigh.

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On The Bust Of Helen By Canova

© George Gordon Byron

In this beloved marble view,
  Above the works and thoughts of man,
What Nature could, but would not, do,
  And Beauty and Canova can!

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O That A Chariot Of Cloud Were Mine!

© Percy Bysshe Shelley

O that a chariot of cloud were mine!
Of cloud which the wild tempest weaves in air,
When the moon over the ocean’s line
Is spreading the locks of her bright gray hair.

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Of F.W.H.M. to One that Smokes

© James Kenneth Stephen

Spare us the hint of slightest desecration,
  Spotless preserve us an untainted shrine;
  Not for thy sake, oh goddess of creation,
  Not for thy sake, oh woman, but for mine.

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Oenone

© William Edmondstoune Aytoun

On the holy mount of Ida,

 Where the pine and cypress grow,

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Ormuzd And Ahriman. A Cantata

© Christopher Pearse Cranch

Oh, that I could sinne once see!

We paint the devil foul, yet he

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On The Misgovernment Of The State

© Confucius

  Deep in my heart my sorrows lie,
  And none the cause may know.
  How can they know, who never try
  To learn whence comes our woe?

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On Lending a Punch-Bowl

© Oliver Wendell Holmes

This ancient silver bowl of mine, it tells of good old times,
Of joyous days and jolly nights, and merry Christmas times;
They were a free and jovial race, but honest, brave, and true,
Who dipped their ladle in the punch when this old bowl was new.

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Over The Eyes Of Gladness

© James Whitcomb Riley

"The voice of One hath spoken,
  And the bended reed is bruised--
The golden bowl is broken,
  And the silver cord is loosed."

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Old Woman in a Housecoat by Georgiana Cohen: American Life in Poetry #14 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laure

© Ted Kooser

Often everyday experiences provide poets with inspiration. Here Georgiana Cohen observes a woman looking out her window and compares the woman to the sunset. The woman's "slumped" chin, the fence that separates them, and the "beached" cars set the poem's tone; this is clearly not a celebration of the neighborhood. Yet by turning to clouds, sky, and breath, Cohen underscores the scene's fragile grace.


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Of The Father's Love Begotten

© Aurelius Clemens Prudentius

Of the Father’s love begotten, ere the worlds began to be,
He is Alpha and Omega, He the source, the ending He,
Of the things that are, that have been,
And that future years shall see, evermore and evermore!

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Olney Hymn 15: Praise For The Fountain Opened

© William Cowper

There is a fountain fill'd with blood,
Drawn from Emmanuel's veins;
And sinners, plunged beneath that flood,
Lose all their guilty stains.

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Ode - Promesse De L'Amour

© Matthew Prior

Hier, l'Amour touche du son
Que rendoit ma lire qu'il aime,
Me promit pour une chanson,
Deux baisers de sa mere mesme.

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Old Japan

© Alfred Noyes

In old Japan, by creek and bay,

The blue plum-blossoms blow,

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Ode To A Child

© Mathilde Blind

BRIGHT as a morn of spring,

That jubilates along the earth,