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Best Famous Jealousy Poems

Here is a collection of the all-time best famous Jealousy poems. This is a select list of the best famous Jealousy poetry. Reading, writing, and enjoying famous Jealousy poetry (as well as classical and contemporary poems) is a great past time. These top poems are the best examples of jealousy poems.

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Written by Mary Elizabeth Coleridge | |

The Other Side of a Mirror

 I sat before my glass one day, 
And conjured up a vision bare, 
Unlike the aspects glad and gay, 
That erst were found reflected there - 
The vision of a woman, wild 
With more than womanly despair.
Her hair stood back on either side A face bereft of loveliness.
It had no envy now to hide What once no man on earth could guess.
It formed the thorny aureole Of hard, unsanctified distress.
Her lips were open - not a sound Came though the parted lines of red, Whate'er it was, the hideous wound In silence and secret bled.
No sigh relieved her speechless woe, She had no voice to speak her dread.
And in her lurid eyes there shone The dying flame of life's desire, Made mad because its hope was gone, And kindled at the leaping fire Of jealousy and fierce revenge, And strength that could not change nor tire.
Shade of a shadow in the glass, O set the crystal surface free! Pass - as the fairer visions pass - Nor ever more return, to be The ghost of a distracted hour, That heard me whisper: - 'I am she!'


Written by Petrarch | |

SONNET CLXIII.

SONNET CLXIII.

L' aura serena che fra verdi fronde.

THE GENTLE BREEZE (L' AURA) RECALLS TO HIM THE TIME WHEN HE FIRST SAW HER.

The gentle gale, that plays my face around,
Murmuring sweet mischief through the verdant grove,
To fond remembrance brings the time, when Love
First gave his deep, although delightful wound;
Gave me to view that beauteous face, ne'er found
Veil'd, as disdain or jealousy might move;
To view her locks that shone bright gold above,
Then loose, but now with pearls and jewels bound:
Those locks she sweetly scatter'd to the wind,
And then coil'd up again so gracefully,
That but to think on it still thrills the sense.
These Time has in more sober braids confined;
And bound my heart with such a powerful tie,
That death alone can disengage it thence.
Nott.
The balmy airs that from yon leafy spray
My fever'd brow with playful murmurs greet,
Recall to my fond heart the fatal day
When Love his first wound dealt, so deep yet sweet,
And gave me the fair face—in scorn away
Since turn'd, or hid by jealousy—to meet;
The locks, which pearls and gems now oft array,
Whose shining tints with finest gold compete,
So sweetly on the wind were then display'd,
Or gather'd in with such a graceful art,
Their very thought with passion thrills my mind.
Time since has twined them in more sober braid,
And with a snare so powerful bound my heart,
Death from its fetters only can unbind.
Macgregor.


Written by Petrarch | |

SONNET CLXXXVI.

SONNET CLXXXVI.

Liete e pensose, accompagnate e sole.

NOT FINDING HER WITH HER FRIENDS, HE ASKS THEM WHY SHE IS ABSENT.

P.
       Pensive and glad, accompanied, alone,
Ladies who cheat the time with converse gay,
Where does my life, where does my death delay?
Why not with you her form, as usual, shown?
L.
   Glad are we her rare lustre to have known,
And sad from her dear company to stay,
Which jealousy and envy keep away
O'er other's bliss, as their own ill who moan.
P.
   Who lovers can restrain, or give them law?
L.
   No one the soul, harshness and rage the frame;
As erst in us, this now in her appears.
As oft the face, betrays the heart, we saw
Clouds that, obscuring her high beauty, came,
And in her eyes the dewy trace of tears.
Macgregor.


More great poems below...

Written by Petrarch | |

SONNET CXLIX.

SONNET CXLIX.

Amor che 'ncende 'l cor d' ardente zelo.

LOVE AND JEALOUSY.

'Tis Love's caprice to freeze the bosom now
With bolts of ice, with shafts of flame now burn;
And which his lighter pang, I scarce discern—
Or hope or fear, or whelming fire or snow.
In heat I shiver, and in cold I glow,
Now thrill'd with love, with jealousy now torn:
As if her thin robe by a rival worn,
Or veil, had screen'd him from my vengeful blow
But more 'tis mine to burn by night, by day;
And how I love the death by which I die,
Nor thought can grasp, nor tongue of bard can sing:
Not so my freezing fire—impartially
She shines to all; and who would speed his way
To that high beam, in vain expands his fluttering wing.
Wrangham.
Love with hot zeal now burns the heart within,
Now holds it fetter'd with a frozen fear,
Leaving it doubtful to our judgment here
If hope or dread, if flame or frost, shall win.
In June I shiver, burn December in,
Full of desires, from jealousy ne'er clear;
E'en as a lady who her loving fee
Hides 'neath a little veil of texture thin.
Of the two ills the first is all mine own,
By day, by night to burn; how sweet that pain
Dwells not in thought, nor ever poet sings:
Not so the other, my fair flame, is shown,
[Pg 168]She levels all: who hopes the crest to gain
Of that proud light expands in vain his wings.
Macgregor.


Written by Petrarch | |

SONNET XCII.

SONNET XCII.

In mezzo di duo amanti onesta altera.

LAURA TURNING TO SALUTE HIM, THE SUN, THROUGH JEALOUSY, WITHDREW BEHIND A CLOUD.

'Tween two fond lovers I a lady spied,
Virtuous but haughty, and with her that lord,
By gods above and men below adored—
The sun on this, myself upon that side—
Soon as she found herself the sphere denied
Of her bright friend, on my fond eyes she pour'd
A flood of life and joy, which hope restored
Less cold to me will be her future pride.
Suddenly changed itself to cordial mirth
The jealous fear to which at his first sight
So high a rival in my heart gave birth;
As suddenly his sad and rueful plight
[Pg 107]From further scrutiny a small cloud veil'd,
So much it ruffled him that then he fail'd.
Macgregor.


Written by Ellis Parker Butler | |

Partners

 Love took chambers on our street
 Opposite to mine;
On his door he tacked a neat,
 Clearly lettered sign.
Straightway grew his custom great, For his sign read so: “Hearts united while you wait.
Step in.
Love and Co.
” Much I wondered who was “Co.
” In Love’s partnership; Thought across the street I’d go— Learn from Love’s own lip.
So I went; and since that day Life is hard for me.
I was buncoed! (By the way, “Co.
” is Jealousy.
)


Written by Anne Kingsmill Finch | |

Jealousy

 VAIN Love, why do'st thou boast of Wings, 
That cannot help thee to retire! 
When such quick Flames Suspicion brings, 
As do the Heart about thee fire.
Still Swift to come, but when to go Thou shou'd'st be more–Alas! how Slow.
Lord of the World must surely be But thy bare Title at the most; Since Jealousy is Lord of Thee, And makes such Havock on thy Coast, As do's thy pleasant Land deface, Yet binds thee faster to the Place.


Written by Mary Darby Robinson | |

Sonnet VI: Is It to Love

 Is it to love, to fix the tender gaze,
To hide the timid blush, and steal away;
To shun the busy world, and waste the day
In some rude mountain's solitary maze?
Is it to chant one name in ceaseless lays,
To hear no words that other tongues can say,
To watch the pale moon's melancholy ray,
To chide in fondness, and in folly praise?
Is it to pour th' involuntary sigh,
To dream of bliss, and wake new pangs to prove;
To talk, in fancy, with the speaking eye,
Then start with jealousy, and wildly rove;
Is it to loathe the light, and wish to die?
For these I feel,--and feel that they are Love.


Written by Li Po | |

Song Of The Jade Cup

 A jade cup was broken because old age came
too soon to give fulfilment to hopes; after drinking
three cups of wine I wiped my sword and
started to dance under an autumn moon first
singing in a high voice then unable to halt
tears coming; I remember the day when first
I was summoned to court and I was feasted splendidly
writing poems in praise of the Emperor, making
jokes with officials around several times changing
my horse, taking the best from the
imperial stables; with my whip studded with
jade and coral presented to me by the Emperor,
my life was free and easy, people calling me
the "Banished Immortal.
" Hsi Shih was good at smiling as well as frowning, useless for ordinary girls to try and imitate her.
Surely it was only her loveliness the king adored, but unfortunately jealousy within the palace led to her death.


Written by George Meredith | |

Modern Love XIV: What Soul Would Bargain

 What soul would bargain for a cure that brings
Contempt the nobler agony to kill?
Rather let me bear on the bitter ill,
And strike this rusty bosom with new stings!
It seems there is another veering fit
Since on a gold-haired lady's eyeballs pure,
I looked with little prospect of a cure,
The while her mouth's red bow loosed shafts of wit.
Just heaven! can it be true that jealousy Has decked the woman thus? and does her head Swim somewhat for possessions forfeited? Madam, you teach me many things that be.
I open an old book, and there I find That "Women still may love whom they deceive.
" Such love I prize not, madam: by your leave, The game you play at is not to my mind.


Written by George Meredith | |

Modern Love: XIV

 What soul would bargain for a cure that brings
Contempt the nobler agony to kill?
Rather let me bear on the bitter ill,
And strike this rusty bosom with new stings!
It seems there is another veering fit
Since on a gold-haired lady's eyeballs pure,
I looked with little prospect of a cure,
The while her mouth's red bow loosed shafts of wit.
Just heaven! can it be true that jealousy Has decked the woman thus? and does her head Swim somewhat for possessions forfeited? Madam, you teach me many things that be.
I open an old book, and there I find That "Women still may love whom they deceive.
" Such love I prize not, madam: by your leave, The game you play at is not to my mind.


Written by Isaac Watts | |

Psalm 101

 The magistrate's Psalm.
Mercy and judgment are my song; And since they both to thee belong, My gracious God, my righteous King, To thee my songs and vows I bring.
If I am raised to bear the sword, I'll take my counsels from thy word; Thy justice and thy heav'nly grace Shall be the pattern of my ways.
Let wisdom all my actions guide, And let my God with me reside; No wicked thing shall dwell with me Which may provoke thy jealousy.
No sons of slander, rage, and strife Shall be companions of my life; The haughty look, the heart of pride, Within my doors shall ne'er abide.
[I'll search the land, and raise the just To posts of honor, wealth, and trust; The men that work thy holy will Shall be my friends and fav'rites still.
] In vain shall sinners hope to rise By flatt'ring or malicious lies; And while the innocent I guard, The bold offender sha'n't be spared.
The impious crew, that factious band, Shall hide their heads or quit the land; And all that break the public rest, Where I have power, shall be suppressed.


Written by Isaac Watts | |

Hymn 166

 The Divine Perfections.
How shall I praise th' eternal God, That infinite Unknown? Who can ascend his high abode, Or venture near his throne? [The great Invisible! he dwells Concealed in dazzling light; But his all-searching eye reveals The secrets of the night.
Those watchful eyes that never sleep Survey the world around His wisdom is a boundless deep Where all our thoughts are drowned.
] [Speak we of strength? his arm is strong To save or to destroy; Infinite years his life prolong, And endless is his joy.
] [He knows no shadow of a change Nor alters his decrees; Firm as a rock his truth remains To guard his promises.
] [Sinners before his presence die; How holy is his name! His anger and his jealousy Burn like devouring flame.
] Justice upon a dreadful throne Maintains the rights of God; While Mercy sends her pardons down, Bought with a Savior's blood.
Now to my soul, immortal King! Speak some forgiving word; Then 'twill be double joy to sing The glories of my Lord.


Written by Isaac Watts | |

Hymn 167

 The Divine Perfections.
Great God! thy glories shall employ My holy fear, my humble joy; My lips in songs of honor bring Their tribute to th' eternal King.
[Earth, and the stars, and worlds unknown, Depend precarious on his throne; All nature hangs upon his word, And grace and glory own their Lord.
] [His sovereign power what mortal knows? If be command, who dares oppose? With strength he girds himself around, And treads the rebels to the ground.
] [Who shall pretend to teach him skill, Or guide the counsels of his will? His wisdom, like a sea divine, Flows deep and high beyond our line.
] [His name is holy, and his eye Burns with immortal jealousy He hates the sons of pride, and sheds His fiery vengeance on their heads.
] [The beaming of his piercing sight Bring dark hypocrisy to light; Death and destruction naked lie, And hell uncovered to his eye.
] [Th' eternal law before him stands; His justice, with impartial hands, Divides to all their due reward, Or by the sceptre or the sword.
] [His mercy, like a boundless sea, Washes our load of guilt away; While his own Son came down and died T' engage his justice on our side.
] [Each of his words demands my faith; My soul can rest on all he saith; His truth inviolably keeps The largest promise of his lips.
] O tell me, with a gentle voice, "Thou art my God," and I'll rejoice! Filled with thy love, I dare proclaim The brightest honors of thy name.


Written by Isaac Watts | |

Psalm 74

 The church pleading with God under sore persecutions.
Will God for ever cast us off? His wrath for ever smoke Against the people of his love, His little chosen flock? Think of the tribes so dearly bought With their Redeemer's blood; Nor let thy Zion be forgot, Where once thy glory stood.
Lift up thy feet and march in haste, Aloud our ruin calls; See what a wide and fearful waste Is made within thy walls.
Where once thy churches prayed and sang, Thy foes profanely roar; Over thy gates their ensigns hang, Sad tokens of their power.
How are the seats of worship broke! They tear the buildings down, And he that deals the heaviest stroke Procures the chief renown.
With flames they threaten to destroy Thy children in their nest; "Come, let us burn at once," they cry, "The temple and the priest.
" And still, to heighten our distress, Thy presence is withdrawn; Thy wonted signs of power and grace, Thy power and grace are gone.
No prophet speaks to calm our woes, But all the seers mourn; There's not a soul amongst us knows The time of thy return.
PAUSE.
How long, eternal God, how long Shall men of pride blaspheme? Shall saints be made their endless song, And bear immortal shame? Canst thou for ever sit and hear Thine holy name profaned? And still thy jealousy forbear, And still withhold thine hand? What strange deliv'rance hast thou shown In ages long before! And now no other God we own, No other God adore.
Thou didst divide the raging sea By thy resistless might, To make thy tribes a wondrous way, And then secure their flight.
Is not the world of nature thine, The darkness and the day? Didst thou not bid the morning shine, And mark the sun his way? Hath not thy power formed every coast, And set the earth its bounds, With summer's heat, and winter's frost, In their perpetual rounds? And shall the sons of earth and dust That sacred power blaspheme? Will not thy hand that formed them first Avenge thine injured name? Think oh the cov'nant thou hast made, And all thy words of love; Nor let the birds of prey invade, And vex thy mourning dove.
Our foes would triumph in our blood, And make our hope their jest; Plead thy own cause, Almighty God, And give thy children rest.