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“O, lay thy hand in mine, dear!” |
Gerald Massey |
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English |
O, Lay thy hand in mine, dear!
We ’re growing old;
But Time hath brought no sign, dear,
That hearts grow cold.
’T is long, long since our new love
Made life divine;
But age enricheth true love,
Like noble wine.
And lay thy... |
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“O, may I join the choir invisible!” |
George Eliot |
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English |
O, May I join the choir invisible
Of those immortal dead who live again
In minds made better by their presence; live
In pulses stirred to generosity,
In deeds of daring rectitude, in scorn
Of miserable aims that end with self,
In thoughts sublime... |
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“O, my Luve ’s like a red, red rose” |
Robert Burns |
1779 |
English |
O, My Luve ’s like a red, red rose
That ’s newly sprung in June:
O, my Luve ’s like the melodie
That ’s sweetly played in tune.
As fair art thou, my bonnie lass,
So deep in luve am I:
And I will luve thee still, my dear,
Till a’... |
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“O, saw ye bonnie Leslie?” |
Robert Burns |
1779 |
English |
O, Saw ye bonnie Leslie
As she gaed o’er the border?
She ’s gane, like Alexander,
To spread her conquests farther.
To see her is to love her,
And love but her forever;
For nature made her what she is,
And ne’er made sic anither!... |
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“O, saw ye the lass?” |
Richard Ryan |
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English |
O, Saw ye the lass wi’ the bonny blue een?
Her smile is the sweetest that ever was seen;
Her cheek like the rose is, but fresher, I ween;
She ’s the loveliest lassie that trips on the green.
The home of my love is below in the valley,
Where wild-flowers... |
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“O, the pleasant days of old!” |
Frances Browne |
1836 |
English |
O, The PLEASANT days of old, which so often people praise!
True, they wanted all the luxuries that grace our modern days:
Bare floors were strewed with rushes, the walls let in the cold;
O, how they must have shivered in those pleasant days of old!
O, those... |
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“Oft in the stilly night” |
Thomas Moore |
1799 |
English |
Oft in the stilly night,
Ere slumber’s chain has bound me,
Fond Memory brings the light
Of other days around me:
The smiles, the tears,
Of boyhood’s years,
The words of love then spoken;
The eyes that shone,
... |
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“Oh that ’t were possible” |
Alfred, Lord Tennyson |
|
English |
From “Maud”
OH that ’t were possible,
After long grief and pain,
To find the arms of my true love
Round me once again!
When I was wont to meet her
In the silent woody places
Of the land that gave me birth,
We stood tranced... |
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“Oh! where do fairies hide their heads?” |
Thomas Haynes Bayley |
1817 |
English |
Oh! where do fairies hide their heads,
When snow lies on the hills,
When frost has spoiled their mossy beds,
And crystallized their rills?
Beneath the moon they cannot trip
In circles o’er the plain;
And draughts of dew they cannot sip,... |
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“Old Ironsides” |
Oliver Wendell Holmes |
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English |
[On the proposed breaking up of the United States frigate “Constitution”]
AY, tear her tattered ensign down!
Long has it waved on high,
And many an eye has danced to see
That banner in the sky;
Beneath it rung the battle-shout,
And burst... |
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“One day I wrote her name” |
Edmund Spenser |
1572 |
English |
From “Amoretti.” Sonnet LXXV.
ONE day I wrote her name upon the strand,
But came the waves, and washèd it away:
Agayne, I wrote it with a second hand;
But came the tyde, and made my paynes his prey.
Vayne man, say’d she, that doest in vayne assay... |
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“Only a year” |
Harriet Beecher Stowe |
|
English |
One year ago,—a ringing voice,
A clear blue eye,
And clustering curls of sunny hair,
Too fair to die.
Only a year,—no voice, no smile,
No glance of eye,
No clustering curls of golden hair,
Fair but to die!
One... |
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“Our boat to the waves” |
William Ellery Channing |
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English |
Our boat to the waves go free,
By the bending tide, where the curled wave breaks,
Like the track of the wind on the white snowflakes:
Away, away! ’T is a path o’er the sea.
Blasts may rave,—spread the sail,
For our spirits can wrest the power from... |
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“Our God, our help in ages past” |
Isaac Watts |
1694 |
English |
Our God, our help in ages past,
Our hope for years to come,
Our shelter from the stormy blast,
And our eternal home,—
Under the shadow of thy throne
Thy saints have dwelt secure;
Sufficient is thine arm alone,
And our defence is... |
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“Out from behind this mask” |
Walt Whitman |
1839 |
English |
To Confront His Own Portrait for “The Wound Dresser” in “Leaves of Grass”
OUT from behind this bending, rough-cut mask,
These lights and shades, this drama of the whole,
This common curtain of the face, contained in me for me, in you for you, in each for each.
(... |
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“Out of the old house, Nancy” |
Will Carleton |
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English |
Out of the old house, Nancy—moved up into the new;
All the hurry and worry is just as good as through.
Only a bounden duty remains for you and I—
And that ’s to stand on the doorstep here, and bid the old house good-bye.
What a shell we ’ve lived in, these... |
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“Over the hill to the poor-house” |
Will Carleton |
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English |
Over the hill to the poor-house I ’m trudgin’ my weary way—
I, a woman of seventy, and only a trifle gray—
I, who am smart an’ chipper, for all the years I ’ve told,
As many another woman that ’s only half as old.
Over the hill to the poor-house—I can’t quite... |
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“Pack clouds away” |
Thomas Heywood |
177 |
English |
Pack clouds away, and welcome day,
With night we banish sorrow;
Sweet air, blow soft; mount, lark, aloft,
To give my love good morrow.
Wings from the wind to please her mind,
Notes from the lark I ’ll borrow:
Bird, prune thy wing; nightingale... |
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“Phillis is my only joy” |
Sir Charles Sedley |
1659 |
English |
Phillis is my only joy
Faithless as the wind or seas;
Sometimes coming, sometimes coy,
Yet she never fails to please.
If with a frown
I am cast down,
Phillis, smiling
And beguiling,
Makes me happier than... |
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“Picciola” |
Robert Henry Newell |
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English |
It was a Sergeant old and gray,
Well singed and bronzed from siege and pillage,
Went tramping in an army’s wake
Along the turnpike of the village.
For days and nights the winding host
Had through the little place been marching,
And ever... |
