Oh banquet not in those shining bowers, Where Youth resorts, but come to me: For mine's a garden of faded flowers, More fit for sorrow, for age, and thee. And there we shall have our feast of tears,...
Oh! blame not the bard, if he fly to the bowers, Where Pleasure lies, carelessly smiling at Fame; He was born for much more, and in happier hours His soul might have burned with a holier flame....
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, call it by some better name, For Friendship sounds too cold, While Love is now a worldly flame, Whose shrine must be of gold: And Passion, like the sun at noon, That burns o'er all he sees,...
Oh, come to me when daylight sets; Sweet! then come to me, When smoothly go our gondolets O'er the moonlight sea. When Mirth's awake, and Love begins, Beneath that glancing ray,...
Oh, could we do with this world of ours As thou dost with thy garden bowers, Reject the weeds and keep the flowers, What a heaven on earth we'd make it! So bright a dwelling should be our own,...
Oh, days of youth and joy, long clouded, Why thus for ever haunt my view? When in the grave your light lay shrouded, Why did not Memory die there too? Vainly doth hope her strain now sing me,...
Oh, do not look so bright and blest, For still there comes a fear, When brow like thine looks happiest, That grief is then most near. There lurks a dread in all delight, A shadow near each ray,...
Oh! doubt me not--the season Is o'er, when Folly made me rove, And now the vestal, Reason, Shall watch the fire awaked by love. Altho' this heart was early blown, And fairest hands disturbed the tree,...
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 the swords of former time! Oh for the men who bore them, When armed for Right, they stood sublime, And tyrants crouched before them: When free yet, ere courts began With honors to enslave him,...
Oh, guard our affection, nor e'er let it feel The blight that this world o'er the warmest will steal: While the faith of all round us is fading or past, Let ours, ever green, keep its bloom to the last. ...
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, no--not even when first we loved, Wert thou as dear as now thou art; Thy beauty then my senses moved, But now thy virtues bind my heart. What was but Passion's sigh before,...
Our white sail caught the evening ray, The wave beneath us seemed to burn, When all the weeping maid could say, Was, "Oh, soon return!" Thro' many a clime our ship was driven...
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....
Thro' Erin's Isle, To sport awhile, As Love and Valor wandered, With Wit, the sprite, Whose quiver bright A thousand arrows squandered. Where'er they pass, A triple grass[1]...
Oh, the sight entrancing, When morning's beam is glancing, O'er files arrayed With helm and blade, And plumes, in the gay wind dancing! When hearts are all high beating,...
Oh! think not my spirits are always as light, And as free from a pang as they seem to you now; Nor expect that the heart-beaming smile of to-night Will return with to morrow to brighten my brow....