One of the five
straight
branches of my hand, I.
Robert Herrick
137.
One ask'd me where the roses grew, I. 19.
One birth our Saviour had; the like none yet, II. 231.
One ear tingles, some there be, II. 160.
One feeds on lard, and yet is lean, I. 216.
One man repentant is of more esteem, II. 235.
One more by thee, love, and desert have sent, I. 239.
One night i' th' year, my dearest beauties, come, II. 23.
One of the five straight branches of my hand, I. 256.
One only fire has hell; but yet it shall, II. 239.
One silent night of late, I. 30.
Only a little more, I. 103.
Open thy gates, II. 212.
Or look'd I back unto the time hence flown, II. 39.
Orpheus he went, as poets tell, II. 82.
Other men's sins we ever bear in mind, II. 66.
One ask'd me where the roses grew, I. 19.
One birth our Saviour had; the like none yet, II. 231.
One ear tingles, some there be, II. 160.
One feeds on lard, and yet is lean, I. 216.
One man repentant is of more esteem, II. 235.
One more by thee, love, and desert have sent, I. 239.
One night i' th' year, my dearest beauties, come, II. 23.
One of the five straight branches of my hand, I. 256.
One only fire has hell; but yet it shall, II. 239.
One silent night of late, I. 30.
Only a little more, I. 103.
Open thy gates, II. 212.
Or look'd I back unto the time hence flown, II. 39.
Orpheus he went, as poets tell, II. 82.
Other men's sins we ever bear in mind, II. 66.