Explore "The Sword" by Ella Wheeler Wilcox on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Amidst applauding cheers I won a prize. / A cynic watched me, with ironic eyes; / An open foe, in open hatred, sneered; / I cared for neither. Then my friend appeared. / Eager, I listened for his glad ‘Well done. ' / But sudden shadow seemed to shroud my sun.
He praised me: yet each slow, unwilling word / Forced from its sheath base Envy's hidden sword, / Two-edged, it wounded me; but, worst of all, / It thrust my friend down from his pedestal, / And showed him as he was-so small, so small.