Envy poems
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A Letter From Italy
© Joseph Addison
Salve magna parens frugum Saturnia tellus,
Magna virûm! tibi res antiquæ laudis et artis
The Fox And Crane.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
ONCE two persons uninvitedCame to join my dinner table;
For the nonce they lived united,Fox and crane yclept in fable.Civil greetings pass'd between usThen I pluck'd some pigeons tender
For the fox of jackal-genius,Adding grapes in full-grown splendour.Long-neck'd flasks I put as dishesFor the crane, without delaying,
Fill'd with gold and silver fishes,In the limpid water playing.Had ye witness'd Reynard plantedAt his flat plate, all demurely,
The Vanity of Human Wishes: The Tenth Satire of Juvenal, Imitated by Samuel Johnson
© Samuel Johnson
Yet still the gen'ral Cry the Skies assails
And Gain and Grandeur load the tainted Gales;
Few know the toiling Statesman's Fear or Care,
Th' insidious Rival and the gaping Heir.
Living Remembrance.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
HALF vex'd, half pleased, thy love will feel,
Shouldst thou her knot or ribbon steal;
To thee they're much--I won't conceal;
The Bliss Of Absence.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
And her image paint at night!
Better rule no lover knows,
Yet true rapture greater grows,
Ode To The Departing Year
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
I.
Spirit who sweepest the wild harp of Time!
It is most hard, with an untroubled ear
Thy dark inwoven harmonies to hear!
Three Odes To My Friend.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
[These three Odes are addressed to a certain
Behrisch, who was tutor to Count Lindenau, and of whom Goethe gives
an odd account at the end of the Seventh Book of his Autobiography.]
The Right Honourable Edmund Burke
© William Lisle Bowles
Why mourns the ingenuous Moralist, whose mind
Science has stored, and Piety refined,
In The Days When The World Was Wide
© Henry Lawson
The world is narrow and ways are short, and our lives are dull and slow,
For little is new where the crowds resort, and less where the wanderers go;
Greater, or smaller, the same old things we see by the dull road-side --
And tired of all is the spirit that sings
of the days when the world was wide.
The Wreath Of Forest Flowers
© Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon
In a fair and sunny forest glade
Oerarched with chesnuts old,
O World Of Many Worlds
© Wilfred Owen
O World of many worlds, O life of lives,
What centre hast thou? Where am I?
O whither is it thy fierce onrush drives?
Fight I, or drift; or stand; or fly?
A Story At Dusk
© Ada Cambridge
An evening all aglow with summer light
And autumn colour-fairest of the year.
Solace
© Peter McArthur
WHEN friends forsake and fortune in despite
Of Thy rich bounty strips me to the wind,
The Minstrel; Or, The Progress Of Genius : Book I.
© James Beattie
I.
Ah! who can tell how hard it is to climb
The steep where Fame's proud temple shines afar!
Ah! who can tell how many a soul sublime
Weary not of us, for we are very beautiful
© Mewlana Jalaluddin Rumi
Weary not of us, for we are very beautiful; it is out of very jealousy and proper pride that we entered the veil.
On the day when we cast of the bodys veil from the soul, you will see that we are the envy of despair of man and the Polestars.
Wash your face and become clean for beholding us, else remain afar, for we are beloveds of ourselves.
We are not that beauty who tomorrow will become a crone; till eternity we are young and heart-comforting and fair of stature.
Bring Wine
© Mewlana Jalaluddin Rumi
Bring wine, for I am suffering crop sickness from the vintage;
God has seized me, and I am thus held fast.
By loves soul, bring me a cup of wine that is the envy of the
sun, for I care aught but love.
Sordello: Book the Fourth
© Robert Browning
Meantime Ferrara lay in rueful case;
The lady-city, for whose sole embrace
A Poem Upon The Death Of O.C.
© Andrew Marvell
That Providence which had so long the care
Of Cromwell's head, and numbred ev'ry hair,
Now in its self (the Glass where all appears)
Had seen the period of his golden Years:
Last Instructions to a Painter
© Andrew Marvell
Here, Painter, rest a little, and survey
With what small arts the public game they play.
For so too Rubens, with affairs of state,
His labouring pencil oft would recreate.
