Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, ENVY, by ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTER


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

ENVY, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: He was the first always. Fortune
Last Line: Death loved him the best.
Alternate Author Name(s): Berwick, Mary
Subject(s): Death; Envy; Dead, The


HE was the first always: Fortune
Shone bright in his face.
I fought for years; with no effort
He conquered the place:
We ran; my feet were all bleeding,
But he won the race.

Spite of his many successes,
Men loved him the same,
My one pale ray of good fortune
Met scoffing and blame.
When we erred, they gave him pity,
But me -- only shame.

My home was still in the shadow,
His lay in the sun:
I longed in vain: what he asked for
It straightway was done.
Once I staked all my heart's treasure,
We played -- and he won.

Yes; and just now I have seen him,
Cold, smiling, and blest,
Laid in his coffin. God help me!
While he is at rest,
I am cursed still to live: -- even
Death loved him the best.





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