Envy poems
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The Queen's Rival
© Sarojini Naidu
"Radiant of feature and regal of mien,
Seven handmaids meet for the Persian Queen."
. . . . .
The Wanderer: A Vision: Canto IV
© Richard Savage
Still o'er my mind wild Fancy holds her sway,
Still on strange visionary land I stray.
Now scenes crowd thick! now indistinct appear!
Swift glide the months, and turn the varying year!
Sonnet. "Oh weary, weary world! how full thou art"
© Frances Anne Kemble
Oh weary, weary world! how full thou art
Of sin, of sorrow, and all evil things!
The Giaour: A Fragment Of A Turkish Tale
© George Gordon Byron
No breath of air to break the wave
That rolls below the Athenian's grave,
That tomb which, gleaming o'er the cliff
First greets the homeward-veering skiff
High o'er the land he saved in vain;
When shall such Hero live again?
On Sanazar's Being Honoured With Six hundred Duckets By The
© Richard Lovelace
Twas a blith prince exchang'd five hundred crowns
For a fair turnip. Dig, dig on, O clowns
But how this comes about, Fates, can you tell,
This more then Maid of Meurs, this miracle?
An Elegy Upon The Death Of Dr. Donne, Dean Of Paul's
© Thomas Carew
Here lies a king, that rul'd as he thought fit
The universal monarchy of wit;
Here lie two flamens, and both those, the best,
Apollo's first, at last, the true God's priest.
Human Life
© Samuel Rogers
An hour like this is worth a thousand passed
In pomp or ease - 'Tis present to the last!
Years glide away untold - 'Tis still the same!
As fresh, as fair as on the day it came!
A Song In Three Parts
© Jean Ingelow
The white broom flatt'ring her flowers in calm June weather,
'O most sweet wear;
Forty-eight weeks of my life do none desire me,
Four am I fair,'
The Flag
© Julia Ward Howe
There's a flag hangs over my threshold, whose folds are more dear to me
Than the blood that thrills in my bosom its earnest of liberty;
And dear are the stars it harbors in its sunny field of blue
As the hope of a further heaven that lights all our dim lives through.
Paracelsus: Part IV: Paracelsus Aspires
© Robert Browning
Festus.
So strange
That I must hope, indeed, your messenger
Has mingled his own fancies with the words
Purporting to be yours.
An Elegy, To an Old Beauty
© Thomas Parnell
In vain, poor Nymph, to please our youthful sight
You sleep in cream and frontlets all the night,
Your face with patches soil, with paint repair,
Dress with gay gowns, and shade with foreign hair.
If truth in spight of manners must be told,
Why, really fifty-five is something old.
Fairy Sketch
© William Lisle Bowles
SCENE--NETLEY ABBEY.
There was a morrice on the moonlight plain,
An Experiment In Translation
© Alfred Austin
Blest husbandmen! if they but knew their bliss!
For whom, from war remote, fair-minded Earth
The Bullfinch
© Gavrila Romanovich Derzhavin
Why do you strike up songs military
Fife-like, o, bullfinch, my friend?
Who'll take the lead in our fight with Hell's forces?
Who will command us? What Hercules?
Where is Suvorov, strong, swift and fearless?
Now Northern thunder lies dead in the grave.
The Dark Lady Sonnets (127 - 154)
© William Shakespeare
CXXVII
In the old age black was not counted fair,
Or if it were, it bore not beauty's name;
But now is black beauty's successive heir,
Maha-Bharata, The Epic Of Ancient India - Book VIII -- Bhishma-Badha - (Fall of Bhishma)
© Romesh Chunder Dutt
All negotiations for a peaceful partition of the Kuru kingdom having
failed, both parties now prepared for a battle, perhaps the most
sanguinary that was fought on the plains of India in the ancient
times. It was a battle of nations, for all warlike races in Northern
India took a share in it.
Italy : 48. The Harper
© Samuel Rogers
It was a harper, wandering with his harp,
His only treasure; a majestic man,
By time and grief ennobled, not subdued;
Though from his height descending, day by day,
The Campaign, A Poem, To His Grace The Duke Of Marlborough
© Joseph Addison
While crowds of princes your deserts proclaim,
Proud in their number to enrol your name;
Rural Sports: A Georgic - Canto I.
© John Gay
But when the sun displays his glorious beams,
And shallow rivers flow with silver streams,
Then the deceit the scaly breed survey,
Bask in the sun, and look into the day.
You now a more delusive art must try,
And tempt their hunger with the curious fly.
