Envy poems

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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.

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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

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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.

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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.

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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.

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The four Seasons of the Year.

© Anne Bradstreet

Spring.

Another four I've left yet to bring on,

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Young Kings and Old

© Henry Lawson

The young man strives to determine which are the truths or lies,
And the old man preaches his sermon—and 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.

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Elegy I

© Rainer Maria Rilke

Who, if I cried out, would hear me among the angels'

hierarchies? and even if one of them suddenly

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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,

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Dark Is The Tomb

© Dora Sigerson Shorter

Dark is the tomb, yet holdeth but one fear

In all its chill and silent majesty,

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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.

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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!

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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.

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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.

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Long Life Not To Be Desired

© Sophocles


  WHO, loving life, hath sought

  To outrun the appointed span,

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Don Juan: Canto The Fourth

© George Gordon Byron

Nothing so difficult as a beginning

In poesy, unless perhaps the end;

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The Kalevala - Rune XXVI

© Elias Lönnrot

ORIGIN OF THE SERPENT.


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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,

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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.

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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?