Poems begining by O
/ page 9 of 137 /Ode To Broken Things
© Pablo Neruda
Things get broken
at home
like they were pushed
by an invisible, deliberate smasher.
Out of Your Love
© Mewlana Jalaluddin Rumi
Out of your love the fire of youth will rise.
In the chest, visions of the soul will rise.
If you are going to kill me, kill me, it is alright.
When the friend kills, a new life will rise.
On The Road
© Dante Gabriel Rossetti
October, and eleven after dark:
Both mist and night. Among us in the coach
On An Infant Which Died Before Baptism
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
'Be, rather than be call'd, a child of God,'
Death whisper'd!--with assenting nod,
Its head upon its mother's breast,
The Baby bow'd, without demur--
Of the kingdom of the Blest
Possessor, not inheritor.
Omens
© Madison Julius Cawein
Sad o'er the hills the poppy sunset died.
Slow as a fungus breaking through the crusts
Old Cambridge
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
AND can it be you've found a place
Within this consecrated space,
Ode On The Sailing Of Our Troops For France
© John Jay Chapman
Go fight for Freedom, Warriors of the West!
At last the word is spoken: Go!
Lay on for Liberty. 'Twas at her breast
The tyrant aimed his blow;
And ye were wounded with the rest
In Belgium's overthrow.
Our Canal
© Harriet Monroe
"All that was writ shall be fulfilled at last.
Cometill we round the circle, end the story.
The west-bound sun leads forward to the past
The thundering cruisers and the caravels.
Tomorrow you shall hear our song of glory
Rung in the chime of India's temple bells."
Oh, My Beloved, Have You Thought Of This
© Edna St. Vincent Millay
Oh, my beloved, have you thought of this:
How in the years to come unscrupulous Time,
Our Atlas
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
Not Atlas, with his shoulders bent beneath the weighty world,
Bore such a burden as this man, on whom the Gods have hurled
The evils of old festering lands-yea, hurled them in their might
And left him standing all alone, to set the wrong things right.
Olney Hymn 62: Dependence
© William Cowper
To keep the lamp alive,
With oil we fill the bowl;
'Tis water makes the willow thrive,
And grace that feeds the soul.
On A Music Box
© Frances Anne Kemble
Poor little sprite! in that dark, narrow cell
Caged by the law of man's resistless might!
On The Sight Of Swans In Kensington Gardens
© Charles Lamb
Queen-bird, that sittest on thy shining nest
And thy young cygnets without sorrow hatchest,
On Something, That Walks Somewhere
© Benjamin Jonson
At court I met it, in clothes brave enough
To be a courtier, and looks grave enough
On Pressing Some Flowers
© Henry Timrod
So, they are dead! Love! when they passed
From thee to me, our fingers met;
O withered darlings of the May!
I feel those fairy fingers yet.
Otherside
© Henry Lawson
SOMEWHERE in the mystic future, on the road to Paradise,
Theres a very pleasant country that Ive dreamed of once or twice,
It has inland towns, and cities by the oceans rocky shelves,
But the people of the country differ somewhat from ourselves;
It is many leagues beyond us, and they call it Otherside.
And there is among its people more Humanity than Pride.
Ode to Rae Wilson Esq.
© Thomas Hood
Mere verbiage,it is not worth a carrot!
Why, Socratesor Platowhere's the odds?
Once taught a jay to supplicate the Gods,
And made a Polly-theist of a Parrot!
On A Movement Of Beethovens
© George MacDonald
Ave! Once more touch the strings
That Memory may feed upon the strain,
And over-live again
The days,
When the heart gloried in the golden lays
That give the spirit wings.