Poems begining by O
/ page 93 of 137 /
Old Soldier
© Padraic Colum
WE wander now who marched before,
Hawking our bran from door to door,
While other men from the mill take their flour:
So it is to be an Old Soldier.
Oh, Fortune!
© Queen Elizabeth I
Oh, Fortune! how thy restlesse wavering state
Hath fraught with cares my troubled witt!
"O man, O woman, grievest so?"
© Lesbia Harford
O man, O woman, grievest so?
Art shut away from all delight,
And must thou leave this garden plot?
O Eve, O Adam, question not.
On The Pilots Who Destroyed Germany In The Spring Of 1945
© Stephen Spender
I stood on a roof top and they wove their cage
Their murmuring throbbing cage, in the air of blue crystal.
I saw them gleam above the town like diamond bolts
Conjoining invisible struts of wire,
Carrying through the sky their geometric cage
Woven by senses delicate as a shoal of flashing fish.
"Oh, oh Rosalie"
© Lesbia Harford
Oh, oh Rosalie,
Oh, oh Rosalie,
What would you have of me?
Oh, oh Rosalie.
On The Death Of Canon Kingsley
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
MORTALS there are who seem, all over, flame,
Vitalized radiance, keen, intense, and high,
Whose souls, like planets in it dominant sky,
Burn with full forces of eternity:
Ortho's Epitaph
© Theocritus
Friend, Ortho of Syracuse gives thee this charge:
Never venture out, drunk, on a wild winter's night.
I did so and died. My possessions were large;
Yet the turf that I'm clad with is strange to me quite.
Oojah-ka-Piv
© Spike Milligan
The people who live
On the Oojah-ka-Piv
Stand around in bundles of nine
On The Rising Of The Sun
© John Bunyan
Look, look, brave Sol doth peep up from beneath,
Shows us his golden face, doth on us breathe;
Orinda to Lucasia
© Katherine Philips
OBSERVE the weary birds ere night be done,
How they would fain call up the tardy sun,
Ode upon the Censure of his New Inn
© Benjamin Jonson
Come, leave the loathed stage,
And the more loathsome age;
Ogyges
© Henry Kendall
Stand out, swift-footed leaders of the horns,
And draw strong breath, and fill the hollowy cliff
One Home
© William Stafford
Mine was a Midwest homeyou can keep your world.
Plain black hats rode the thoughts that made our code.
We sang hymns in the house; the roof was near God.
On Certain Elizabethan revivals
© Dante Gabriel Rossetti
O RUFF-EMBASTIONED vast Elizabeth,
Bush to these bushel-bellied casks of wine,
On The Decline Of Oracles
© Sylvia Plath
My father kept a vaulted conch
By two bronze bookends of ships in sail,
And as I listened its cold teeth seethed
With voices of that ambiguous sea
Outside Fargo, North Dakota
© James Wright
Along the sprawled body of the derailed Great Northern freight car,
I strike a match slowly and lift it slowly.
No wind.
