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“My sweet sweeting” |
Anonymous |
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English |
From a MS. Temp. Henry VIII.
AH, my sweet sweeting;
My little pretty sweeting,
My sweeting will I love wherever I go;
She is so proper and pure,
Full, steadfast, stable, and demure,
There is none such, you may be sure,... |
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“My times are in thy hand” |
Christopher Newman Hall |
1836 |
English |
MY times are in thy hand!
I know not what a day
Or e’en an hour may bring to me,
But I am safe while trusting thee,
Though all things fade away.
All weakness, I
On him rely
Who fixed the earth and... |
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“My true-love hath my heart” |
Sir Philip Sidney |
1574 |
English |
My true-love hath my heart, and I have his,
By just exchange one to the other given:
I hold his dear, and mine he cannot miss,
There never was a better bargain driven:
My true-love hath my heart, and I have his.
His heart in me keeps him and me in... |
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“Not at all, or all in all” |
Alfred, Lord Tennyson |
|
English |
From “Merlin and Vivien”
IN Love, if Love be Love, if Love be ours,
Faith and unfaith can ne’er be equal powers;
Unfaith in aught is want of faith in all.
It is the little rift within the lute,
That by and by will make the music mute,
And ever... |
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“Not marble, not the gilded monuments” |
William Shakespeare |
1584 |
English |
Sonnet Lv.
not marble, not the gilded monuments
Of princes, shall outlive this powerful rhyme;
But you shall shine more bright in these contents,
Than unswept stone, besmeared with sluttish time.
When wasteful war shall statues overturn,
And broils... |
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“Not ours the vows” |
Bernard Barton |
1804 |
English |
Not ours the vows of such as plight
Their troth in sunny weather,
While leaves are green and skies are bright,
To walk on flowers together.
But we have loved as those who tread
The thorny path of sorrow,
With clouds above, and cause to... |
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“Nothing but leaves” |
Lucy Evelina Akerman |
1836 |
English |
Nothing but leaves; the spirit grieves
Over a wasted life;
Sin committed while conscience slept,
Promises made, but never kept,
Hatred, battle, and strife;
Nothing but leaves!
Nothing but leaves; no garnered sheaves
Of life’s... |
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“Nothing to Wear” |
William Allen Butler |
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English |
Miss Flora MCFLIMSEY, of Madison Square,
Has made three separate journeys to Paris,
And her father assures me, each time she was there,
That she and her friend Mrs. Harris
(Not the lady whose name is so famous in history,
But plain Mrs. H., without... |
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“O Captain! my Captain!” |
Walt Whitman |
1839 |
English |
O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done,
The ship has weathered every rack, the prize we sought is won,
The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,
While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring;
But O heart! heart!... |
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“O Fire of God, the Comforter” |
Hildegard of Bingen |
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English |
From the Latin by Richard Frederick Littledale
“O Ignis Spiritus Paracliti”
O FIRE of God, the Comforter, O life of all that live,
Holy art thou to quicken us, and holy, strength to give:
To heal the broken-hearted ones, their sorest wounds to bind,
O Spirit... |
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“O little town of Bethlehem” |
Phillips Brooks |
|
English |
O Little town of Bethlehem,
How still we see thee lie!
Above thy deep and dreamless sleep
The silent stars go by;
Yet in thy dark streets shineth
The everlasting Light;
The hopes and fears of all the years
Are met in thee to-night... |
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“O Master, let me walk with thee” |
Washington Gladden |
|
English |
O Master, let me walk with thee
In lowly paths of service free;
Tell me thy secret; help me bear
The strain of toil, the fret of care;
Help me the slow of heart to move
By some clear winning word of love;
Teach me the wayward feet to stay,
... |
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“O mistress mine” |
William Shakespeare |
1584 |
English |
From “Twelfth Night,” Act II. Sc. 3.
O MISTRESS mine, where are you roaming?
O, stay and hear! your true-love ’s coming
That can sing both high and low;
Trip no further, pretty sweeting,
Journeys end in lovers’ meeting,—
Every wise man’s son... |
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“O Swallow, Swallow, flying South” |
Alfred, Lord Tennyson |
|
English |
From “The Princess”
O SWALLOW, Swallow, flying, flying South,
Fly to her, and fall upon her gilded eaves,
And tell her, tell her what I tell to thee.
O tell her, Swallow, thou that knowest each,
That bright and fierce and fickle is the South,
... |
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“O whistle, and I’ll come to you, my lad” |
Robert Burns |
1779 |
English |
O Whistle, and I ’ll come to you, my lad,
O whistle, and I ’ll come to you, my lad,
Tho’ father and mither and a’ should gae mad,
O whistle, and I ’ll come to you, my lad.
But warily tent, when ye come to court me,
And come na unless the back-yett be a-... |
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“O winter! wilt thou never, never go?” |
David Gray |
|
English |
O Winter! wilt thou never, never go?
O summer! but I weary for thy coming,
Longing once more to hear the Luggie flow,
And frugal bees, laboriously humming.
Now the east-wind diseases the infirm,
And they must crouch in corners from rough weather;
... |
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“O yet we trust that somehow good” |
Alfred, Lord Tennyson |
|
English |
From “In Memoriam,” LIII.
O YET we trust that somehow good
Will be the final goal of ill,
To pangs of nature, sins of will,
Defects of doubt, and taints of blood;
That nothing walks with aimless feet;
That not one life shall be destroyed,... |
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“O, breathe not his name” |
Thomas Moore |
1799 |
English |
Robert Emmet
O, BREATHE not his name! let it sleep in the shade,
Where cold and unhonored his relics are laid;
Sad, silent, and dark be the tears that we shed,
As the night-dew that falls on the grave o’er his head.
But the night-dew that falls, though in... |
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“O, do not wanton with those eyes” |
Ben Jonson |
1592 |
English |
O, Do not wanton with those eyes,
Lest I be sick with seeing;
Nor cast them down, but let them rise,
Lest shame destroy their being.
O, be not angry with those fires,
For then their threats will kill me;
Nor look too kind on my desires,... |
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“O, fairest of rural maids!” |
William Cullen Bryant |
1814 |
English |
O, Fairest of the rural maids!
Thy birth was in the forest shades;
Green boughs, and glimpses of the sky,
Were all that met thine infant eye.
Thy sports, thy wanderings, when a child,
Were ever in the sylvan wild,
And all the beauty of the place... |
