I then acted as agent for the "Zion Record," published by Rev. R. A. Adams, 39 St. Catherine Street, Natchez, Miss., until August 20, 1902. Knowing that there was a dormitory to be built for girls at Alcorn, I went there, hopin...
James Patrick O'Hara the Justice of Peace, He bossed the P.M. and he bossed the police; A parent, a deacon, a landlord was he, A townsman of weight was O'Hara, J.P. ...
O, have you blessed, behind the stars, The blue sheen in the skies, When June the roses round her calls? - Then do you know the light that falls From her beloved eyes. ...
Oh! 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 grass o'er his head....
Oh fair! oh purest! be thou the dove That flies alone to some sunny grove, And lives unseen, and bathes her wing, All vestal white, in the limpid spring. There, if the hovering hawk be near,...
Oh, for a home of rest! Time lags alone so slow, so wearily; Couldst thou but smile on me, I should be blest. Alas, alas! that never more may be. Oh, for the sky-lark's wing to soar to thee! ...
Oh! had we some bright little isle of our own, In a blue summer ocean, far off and alone, Where a leaf never dies in the still blooming bowers, And the bee banquets on thro' a whole year of flowers;...
"Oh, have you e'er heard of Kate Kearney? She lives on the banks of Killarney; From the glance of her eye, Shun danger and fly, For fatal's the glance of Kate Kearney."
Oh stay at home, my lad, and plough The land and not the sea, And leave the soldiers at their drill, And all about the idle hill Shepherd your sheep with me.
Oh, teach me to love Thee, to feel what thou art, Till, filled with the one sacred image, my heart Shall all other passions disown; Like some pure temple that shines apart, Reserved for Thy worship alone....
"Oh, Timballoo! how happy we are, We live in a sieve and a crockery jar! And all night long, in the starlight pale, We sail away, with a pea-green sail, And whistle and warble a moony song...
Oh what a Wreck! how changed in mien and speech! Yet, though dread Powers, that work in mystery, spin Entanglings of the brain; though shadows stretch O'er the chilled heart reflect; far, far within...
Oh, would that she were here, These hills and dales among, Where vocal groves are gayly mocked By Echo's airy tongue: Where jocund nature smiles In all her boon attire,...