Envy poems
/ page 6 of 63 /Scandalous Song
© Millosh Gjergj Nikolla
A pale-faced nun who with the sins of this world
Bears my sins, too, upon her weary shoulders,
Those shoulders, wan as wax, which some deity has kissed,
Roams the streets like a fleeting angel.
Childish Recollections
© George Gordon Byron
'I cannot but remember such things were,
And were most dear to me.'
WHEN slow Disease, with all her host of pains,
Chills the warm, tide which flows along the veins
The Daemon Of The World
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
Nec tantum prodere vati,
Quantum scire licet. Venit aetas omnis in unam
Congeriem, miserumque premunt tot saecula pectus.
The Crane
© Hovhannes Toumanian
The Crane has lost his way across the heaven,
From yonder stormy cloud I hear him cry,
A traveller a'er an unknown pathway driven,
In a cold world unheeded he doth fly.
The Two Painters: A Tale
© Washington Allston
At which, with fix'd and fishy
The Strangers both express'd amaze.
Good Sir, said they, 'tis strange you dare
Such meanness of yourself declare.
Young Kings and Old
© Henry Lawson
The young man strives to determine which are the truths or lies,
And the old man preaches his sermonand he takes to his bed and dies;
And the parson is there, and the nurse is (or the bread is there and the wine)
And the son of the minister curses as he dies in the firing line.
Elegy I
© Rainer Maria Rilke
Who, if I cried out, would hear me among the angels'
hierarchies? and even if one of them suddenly
Song of the Guitar.
© Bai Juyi
In the tenth year of Yuanhe I was banished and demoted to be assistant official in Jiujiang. In the summer of the next year I was seeing a friend leave Penpu and heard in the midnight from a neighbouring boat a guitar played in the manner of the capital. Upon inquiry, I found that the player had formerly been a dancing-girl there and in her maturity had been married to a merchant. I invited her to my boat to have her play for us. She told me her story, heyday and then unhappiness. Since my departure from the capital I had not felt sad; but that night, after I left her, I began to realize my banishment. And I wrote this long poem - six hundred and twelve characters.
I was bidding a guest farewell, at night on the Xunyang River,
Dark Is The Tomb
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
Dark is the tomb, yet holdeth but one fear
In all its chill and silent majesty,
To D--
© George Gordon Byron
In thee I fondly hoped to clasp
A friend whom death alone could sever;
Till envy, with malignant grasp,
Detach'd thee from my breast for ever.
Sordello: Book the Second
© Robert Browning
What next? The curtains see
Dividing! She is there; and presently
He will be there-the proper You, at length-
In your own cherished dress of grace and strength:
Most like, the very Boniface!
Hudibras: Part 3 - Canto II
© Samuel Butler
Next him his Son and Heir Apparent
Succeeded, though a lame vicegerent;
Who first laid by the Parliament,
The only crutch on which he leant;
And then sunk underneath the State,
That rode him above horseman's weight.
Tales Of A Wayside Inn : Part 1. Prelude; The Wayside Inn
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
One Autumn night, in Sudbury town,
Across the meadows bare and brown,
The windows of the wayside inn
Gleamed red with fire-light through the leaves
Of woodbine, hanging from the eaves
Their crimson curtains rent and thin.
Don Juan: Canto The Fourth
© George Gordon Byron
Nothing so difficult as a beginning
In poesy, unless perhaps the end;
The Second Hymn Of Callimachus. To Apollo
© Matthew Prior
Hah! how the laurel, great Apollo's tree,
And all the cavern shakes! Far off, far off,
Envy
© Charles Lamb
This rose-tree is not made to bear
The violet blue, nor lily fair,
Nor the sweet mignonette:
And if this tree were discontent,
Or wished to change its natural bent,
It all in vain would fret.
Ode to Health, 1730
© William Shenstone
O Health! capricious maid!
Why dost thou shun my peaceful bower,
Where I had hope to share thy power,
And bless thy lasting aid?