• If Jealousy be a poem
    Written in the deepest spite
    Would it read of raining blossoms
    Or be cold as frigid night
    For the coldest glare seems to suggest
    The second to be true
    Whilst another glance be begging
    For these eyes to soften too
    Alas, for all these longing stares
    Must unknowing be in vain
    For these eyes that those be dieing for
    Be that of just a friend