En.Citatepedia^®.ro

To Mrs. Caesar, At The Speaker's Lodgings At Bath.

When lately you acquitted me,
With Carteret I din'd;
And, in Return, (tho' grievous) thee
To Onslow I resign'd.

'Tis wise the happy Hour to seize;
For, search the Nation round,
Such Peers, or Commoners, as these,
Where are they to be found?

Our Situation's chang'd you see:
(How Pleasures fleet away!)
But Yesterday you envy'd me;
I envy you To--day.

poem by Mary Barber
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Envy Nothing But One

I don’t envy the angels with wings who can fly
I’ve been soaring in the beautiful sky of your love
I don’t envy the beauty of the rainbow
You’ve made me the most beautiful woman in your love

I don’t envy the freedom of the dolphins swimming in the ocean
I’ve been swimming in the ocean of your loving eyes
I don’t envy Shakespeare for his love poems
I’ve become the greatest poet since I met you

I don’t envy Romeo’s faith to Juliet
You’ve never turned your heart from me, not even once
I don’t envy the softness of the dew the morning has
You’ve been kissing me gently with your tender lips

I don’t envy Monalisa’s wonderful smile Leonardo has
I’ve got one of mine on your face
I don’t envy the sweet sound a harp has
I’ve got a sweeter one when you whisper in my ears

I envy nothing but one
The way you love and make me feel this way

poem by Santi Dewi Sihombing
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Untitled 20

i envy you
you do not have to write anything
to create meaning to your life

i envy you
you enjoy life without thinking much
you love and you are loved in return

i envy you
for you belong to someone
you never belong to me

here i am
moving in circles
nauseated.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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One’s drive

I should marry such a woman
As others would envy me my wife.
I should attain such a position
As others would envy me my place.
I should construct such a building
As others would envy me my house.
In absence of others, I have no drive.
Envy, not love, influences one’s drive.
03.11.2008

poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I envy Seas, whereon He rides

498

I envy Seas, whereon He rides—
I envy Spokes of Wheels
Of Chariots, that Him convey—
I envy Crooked Hills

That gaze upon His journey—
How easy All can see
What is forbidden utterly
As Heaven—unto me!

I envy Nests of Sparrows—
That dot His distant Eaves—
The wealthy Fly, upon His Pane—
The happy—happy Leaves—

That just abroad His Window
Have Summer's leave to play—
The Ear Rings of Pizarro
Could not obtain for me—

I envy Light—that wakes Him—
And Bells—that boldly ring
To tell Him it is Noon, abroad—
Myself—be Noon to Him—

Yet interdict—my Blossom—
And abrogate—my Bee—
Lest Noon in Everlasting Night—
Drop Gabriel—and Me—

poem by Emily Dickinson
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I DON'T ENVY WOMEN 2...by talile ali

I DON'T ENVY WOMEN
NO I DON'T
THE STUFF THEY HAVE TO GO THRU

I DON'T ENVY WOMEN
NO I DON'T
HOW COULD REALITY BE SO CRUEL

I GOT A FRIEND
CUTE AS HELL
I'LL LOVE HER TILL THE BITTER END

BEEN RAPED SO MUCH
LOOKED TO GOOD TO TOUCH
MESSED UP PRICE FOR A PRETTY FACE, MY FRIEND

I DON'T ENVY WOMEN
NO I DON'T
THE SHIT THEY HAVE TO GO THRU HURTS SO MUCH

I DON'T ENVY WOMEN
NO I DON'T
HOW COULD REALITY BE SO CRUEL AND TRUE

I HAVE ANOTHER FRIEND
ALL OVER THE PLACE
AS IF SHE LOST HER MIND

WITH HEAVY FLOWS
AND HORMONE WOES
IT'S A MIRACLE SHE'S NOT DYIN

I DON'T ENVY WOMEN
NO I DON'T
THE STUFF THEY GO THRU BECAUSE WE JUST DON'T

I DON'T ENVY WOMEN
NO I DON'T
THE BRAINLESS CRUELTY JUST SIMPLY WON'T

THESE GIRLS I KNOW
THEY ALL OWN MY HEART
TO KNOW SUCH GREAT DESPAIR IS BEYOND JUST FAIR

NEVER KNOWING
A MOMENTS PEACE
AND UNTROUBLED LOVE THAT THEY CAN NEVER SHARE

I DON'T ENVY WOMEN
NO I DON'T
THE STUFF THEY ALL HAVE TO GO THRU

I DON'T ENVY WOMEN
NO I DON'T
HOW COULD THEIR LIFE BE SO CRUEL

poem by Talile Ali
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They Are The Ones That Others Envy

I have issues with people who leave people...
Begging on the streets with nothing to eat.
Or treat others like they're not even human equals.
And then look disgusted like they are diseased

No human being can teach a cat hygiene.
Nor can you teach a grown up to be clean.
Nobody should be teaching who to respect.
That should be a given and not a pick to peck.

I have issues with the snots with turned up noses.
As if they have scents of champion roses.
Ooo I can't believe these people are the ones who stink.
And-they-believe,
They are the ones that others envy?

Who made them runner up for fresh sainthoods?
Who showed them evilness was anything good?
Who gave them rights to think they beam like light?
And who told them they approve the Sun that rises high!

Yes I have issues with the snots with turned up noses.
As if they have scents of champion roses.
Ooo I can't believe these people are the ones who stink.
And-they-believe,
They are the ones that others envy?

They believe,
They are the ones that others envy.
And they believe,
They are the ones that others envy.
They believe,
They are the ones that others envy.
And they believe,
They are the ones that others envy.

I have issues with the snots with turned up noses.
And they believe,
They are the ones that others envy.

I have issues with the snots with turned up noses.
And they believe,
They are the ones that others envy.
And they believe,
They are the ones that others envy.
And they believe,
They are the ones that others envy.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Painter's Life

I do not envy painter's life
Of turpentine and palette knife
Forever waiting for the hand
That rests upon depression's stand

I do not envy gessoed sheets
Awaiting brushstrokes soon to meet
Yet when the work is almost done
Ripped up, unseen by anyone

I do not envy hopeless hours
Expecting inspiration's powers
To seize and lift a dull malaise
And turn a lifeless work ablaze

I do not envy people's awe
Appreciation's loud hurrah
When masterpieces are displayed
The costs the painter for them paid

There is a price for gifts bestowed
None yet has walked the royal road
For each must very dearly pay
To use them or he'll surely stray

I do not envy painter's life
Of turpentine and palette knife
Forever waiting for the hand
That rests upon depression's stand.

poem by Liilia Talts Morrison
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A Lover's Envy

I envy every flower that blows
Along the meadow where she goes,
And every bird that sings to her,
And every breeze that brings to her
The fragrance of the rose.

I envy every poet's rhyme
That moves her heart at eventime,
And every tree that wears for her
Its brightest bloom, and bears for her
The fruitage of its prime.

I envy every Southern night
That paves her path with moonbeams white,
And silvers all the leaves for her,
And in their shadow weaves for her
A dream of dear delight.

I envy none whose love requires
Of her a gift, a task that tires:
I only long to live to her,
I only ask to give to her
All that her heart desires.

poem by Henry Van Dyke
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Sonnet: Envy

In human hearts, the fire of Envy burns,
All night and day, since birth until one’s death!
No matter what lessons the mind still learns,
The eyes of Envy stay green till last breath.

Why should Envy occupy the heart’s core?
Does God not give talents to all the men?
To everyone, He opens a new door!
Just sinless labor will earn him Heaven.

But not all men are made of same substance;
Yet, plenty can be done in any field;
One’s toil’s outweighed by environment and chance;
To suppress others, powers never wield!

The poison, Envy devours any heart,
And spells chaos and doom for any art.

poem by John Celes
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Envy and Admiration

Oh how I envy my sister
Every time she talks
Every time she walks
Every time she goes somewhere
I envy my sister every minute of the day

She talks like there’s no stopping her
She owns her walk all the time
She gets to have freedom to go wherever she wants
She gets to drive when she wants to
She is the lucky sister that I very much envy

But yet I still admire her with all of my heart
I admire her for her strength
I admire her for her willingness to speak out
I admire her for her ability to stand out in the crowd
She is the sister that I admire every minute of the day

How can I envy and admire her both?
She makes my insides fill with jealousy
But yet she fills my heart and brain with admiration
After confessing this, I still feel envy and admiration for my older sister…will it ever end? ? ?

poem by Casey Lyon
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The Prisoner to a Robin Who Came to His Window

Welcome! welcome! little stranger,
Welcome to my lone retreat,
Here, secure from every danger,
Hop about, and chirp, and eat.
Robin! how I envy thee,
Happy child of liberty.

Hunger never shall distress thee,
While my meals one crumb afford,
Colds and cramps shall ne'er oppress thee,
Come and share my humble board:
Robin, come and live with me,
Live, yet still at liberty.

Soon shall spring, with smiles and blushes,
Steal upon the blooming year;
Then, amid the verdant bushes,
Thy sweet song shall warble clear;
Then shall I too, joined with thee,
Taste the sweets of liberty.

Should some rough, unfeeling Dobbin,
In this iron-hearted age,
Seize thee on thy nest, my robin,
And confine thee in a cage;
Then, poor robin, think of me,
Think - and sigh for liberty.

Liberty! thou brightest treasure
In the crown of earthly joys,
Source of gladness, soul of pleasure,
All delights besides are toys:
None but prisoners like me
Know the worth of liberty.

poem by James Montgomery
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Making Me Wait To Rekindle

I do not envy a second of your patience.
I could not sit to wait,
As if my own needs...
Can only be satisfied,
If a bit of tolerance was applied.

I do not envy a second of your patience.
As if a puppy held by an invisible leash.
Intoxicated with a craving for an appearance,
To share that familiarity again.
I do not envy a second of your patience.

But I do...
Wish I could have someone,
To pretend I am bitter with...
For making me wait,
To rekindle a romantic encounter.

Those times are missed.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Oh Pretty Ballerina

Oh pretty ballerina with a bow in your hair
How i envy your movements so graceful and beautiful
How i long for your lean figure and fragile frame
Oh pretty ballerina with a bow in your hair
How i envy the way the world spins around you
Yet you don't fall like the rest
How i long for your balance
That keeps you so poised
Oh pretty ballerina with a bow in your hair
How i envy your slippers
That gleam in the lights
How i long for the dresses
That shimmer with every glide you do
Oh pretty ballerina with a bow in your hair
How i envy your perfection
How i long for your adoration

poem by Korey Buffo
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Thoughts

When I am all alone
Envy me most,
Then my thoughts flutter round me
In a glimmering host;

Some dressed in silver,
Some dressed in white,
Each like a taper
Blossoming light;

Most of them merry,
Some of them grave,
Each of them lithe
As willows that wave;

Some bearing violets,
Some bearing bay,
One with a burning rose
Hidden away --

When I am all alone
Envy me then,
For I have better friends
Than women and men.

poem by Sara Teasdale
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O Navis

POOR bark of Life, upon the billows hoarse
Assailed by storms of envy and deceit,
Across what cruel seas in passage fleet
My and sword alone direct thy course!
My pen is dull; my sword of little force;
Thy side lies open to the wild waves' beat
As out from Favor's harbors we retreat,
Pursued by hopes deceived and vain remorse.

Let heaven by star to guide thee! here below
How vain the joys that foolish hearts desire!
Here friendship dies and enmity keeps true;
Here happy days have left thee long ago!
But seek not port, brave thou the tempest's ire;
Until the end thy fated course pursue!

poem by Lope de Vega
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It's Hard To Be Me

You see me everywhere, in my underwear
You may wonder what I'm here to sell
But underneath my stare, I'm so naked there
There are secrets I'm dying to tell
It's Hard to be Me
Nobody knows what it's like to be
The envy of mediocrity
If you could see
All my depth and complexity
I'd think you'd agree
It's Hard to be Me; It's Hard to be Me
I am up here alone, on my glamorous throne
Want to thank all you people down there
I was once an unknown, like you but I've grown
I have so much I'm hoping to share
It's Hard to be Me
Nobody knows what it's like to be
The envy of mediocrity
If you could see
All my depth and complexity
I'd think you'd agree
It's Hard to be Me, It's Hard to be Me
I guess you think that it's hard for you
Walking 'round in your little shoes
You don't know how I've sacrificed
To live this life, to look so nice
It's Hard to be Me
Nobody knows what it's like to be
The envy of mediocrity
If you could see
All my depth and complexity
I'd think you'd agree
It's Hard to be Me, It's Hard to be Me
Me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me

song performed by by Cyndi Lauper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Lady of Oriana To Dulcinea del Toboso

Oh, fairest Dulcinea, could it be!
It were a pleasant fancy to suppose so—
Could Miraflores change to El Toboso,
And London's town to that which shelters thee!

Oh, could mine but acquire that livery
Of countless charms thy mind and body show so!
Or him, now famous grown—thou mad'st him grow so—
Thy knight, in some dread combat could I see!

Oh, could I be released from Amadis
By exercise of such coy chastity
As led thee gentle Quixote to dismiss!

Then would my heavy sorrow turn to joy;
None would I envy, all would envy me,
And happiness be mine without alloy.

poem by Miguel de Cervantes from Don Quixote de la Mancha (1605), translated by John Ormsby
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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My Fair Lady

My fair lady, gentle and
tendereth.
My lily whose company the
angels envy.
Aeon apart, your thought
still light up my heart.
Shall i not tell the world about thee.
Tell them about the epitome
of thy beauty.
You whose smile gives me comfort
as of shade in the moments of sun.
My fair lady, whose company
the heavenly beings envy.

poem by Enebeli Ifyprada
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What Envy Does Is Kill The Person Inside

WHAT ENVY DOES IS KILL THE PERSON INSIDE

What envy does is kill the person inside-
There is nothing more ugly
Than satisfaction at the misfortune of ones friend-

For this alone
No human being deserves to be immortal-

Envy and pleasure at another's misfortune
Teach us
Our Death is justified.

poem by Shalom Freedman
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A Vote (excerpt)

...
This only grant me: that my means may lie
Too low for envy, for contempt too high.
Some honour I would have,
Not from great deeds, but good alone;
Th' ignote are better than ill-known,
Rumour can ope the grave.
Acquaintance I would hug, but when 't depends
Not from the number, but the choice of friends.

Books should, not bus'ness, entertain the light,
And sleep, as undisturb'd as death, the night.
My house a cottage, more
Than palace, and should fitting be
For all my use, no luxury.
My garden painted o'er
With Nature's hand, not Art's, and pleasures yield
Horace might envy in his Sabine field.

Thus would I double my life's fading space,
For he that runs it well, twice runs his race.
And in this true delight,
These unbought sports and happy state
I would not fear, nor wish my fate,
But boldly say each night,
To-morrow let my sun his beams display,
Or in clouds hide them; I have liv'd to-day.

poem by Abraham Cowley
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