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Henry Van Dyke - A Lover`s Envy
Work rating: Medium

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.
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