Ognuno vede quel che tu pari, pochi sentono quel che tu sei—Every one sees what you seem, few know what you are. Machiavelli.
Oh, be he king or peasant, he is happiest / Who in his home finds peace. Goethe.
Oh, call my brother back to me! / I cannot play alone; / The summer comes with flower and bee,—/ Where is my brother gone? Mrs. Hemans.
Oh, Death! the poor man's dearest friend—/ 50 The kindest and the best! / Welcome the hour my aged limbs / Are laid with thee at rest! / The great, the wealthy fear thy blow, / From pomp and pleasure torn! But oh! a bless'd relief to those / That weary-laden mourn! Burns.
Oh, for a lodge in some vast wilderness, / Some boundless contiguity of shade, / Where rumour of oppression and deceit, / Of unsuccessful or successful war, / May never reach me more. Cowper.
Oh, ... for a man with heart, head, hand. / ... Whatever they call him, what care I, / Aristocrat, democrat, autocrat—one / Who can rule and dare not lie! Tennyson.
Oh, how sweet it is to hear our own conviction from another's lips! Goethe.
Oh, it is excellent / To have a giant's strength, but it is tyrannous / To use it like a giant. Meas. for Meas., ii. 2.
Oh! Kritisieren, lieber Herr, ist federleicht, / Doch Bessermachen schwierig—Oh, criticising, good sir, is as easy as a feather is light; 'tis making better that's the difficulty. Platen.
Oh, love for ever lost, / And with it faith gone out! what is't remains / But duty, though the path be rough and trod / By bruised and bleeding feet? Lewis Morris.