Ella Wheeler Wilcox Poems

  • 1.  
    On the white throat of the' useless passion
    That scorched my soul with its burning breath I clutched my fingers in murderous fashion,
  • 2.  
    I know not wherefore, but mine eyes
    See bloom, where other eyes see blight. They find a rainbow, a sunrise,
  • 3.  
    I think I never passed so sad an hour,
    Dear friend, as that one at the church to-night. The edifice from basement to the tower
  • 4.  
    Musing upon the tragedies of earth,
    Of each new horror which each hour gives birth, Of sins that scar and cruelties that blight
  • 5.  
    The world grows green on a thousand hills -
    By a thousand willows the bees are humming, And a million birds by a million rills,
  • 6.  
    What does our country need? Not armies standing
    With sabres gleaming ready for the fight. Not increased navies, skillful and commanding,
  • 7.  
    They rode through the bannered city -
    The King and the Commoner, And the hopes of the world were with them,
  • 8.  
    They met each other in the glade -
    She lifted up her eyes; Alack the day! Alack the maid!
  • 9.  
    The strings of my heart were strung by Pleasure,
    And I laughed when the music fell on my ear, For he and Mirth played a joyful measure,
  • 10.  
    As yon great Sun in his supreme condition
    Absorbs small worlds and makes them all his own, So does my love absorb each vain ambition
  • 11.  
    If all the ships I have at sea
    Should come a-sailing home to me, From sunny lands, and lands of cold,
  • 12.  
    You who are loudly crying out for peace,
    You who are wanting love to vanquish hate. How is it in the four walls of your home
  • 13.  
    The sweet young Spring walks over the earth,
    It flushes and glows on moor and lea; The birds are singing in careless mirth,
  • 14.  
    I dreamed a Voice, of one God-authorised,
    Cried loudly throâ?? the world, â??Disarm! Disarm! â?? And there was consernation in the camps;
  • 15.  
    Friend of my youth, let us talk of old times;
    Of the long lost golden hours. When "Winter" meant only Christmas chimes,
  • 16.  
    We must not force events, but rather make
    The heart soil ready for their coming, as The earth spreads carpets for the feet of Spring,
  • 17.  
    The harsh King--Winter--sat upon the hills,
    And reigned and ruled the earth right royally. He locked the rivers, lakes, and all the rills--
  • 18.  
    Dost thou not tire, Isaura, of this play?
    'What play?' Why, this old play of winning hearts!
  • 19.  
    The world was widowed by the death of Christ:
    Vainly its suffering soul for peace has sought And found it not.
  • 20.  
    If all the end of this continuous striving
    Were simply to attain, How poor would seem the planning and contriving
  • 21.  
    I left the farm when mother died and changed my place of dwelling
    To daughter Susieâ??s stylish house right on the city street: And there was them before I came that sort of scared me, telling
  • 22.  
    Were I man grown, I'd stand
    With clean heart, soul, and hand, An honor to this land.
  • 23.  
    A humble wild-rose, pink and slender,
    Was plucked and placed in a bright bouquet, Beside a Jacqueminotâ??s royal splendour,
  • 24.  
    How terrible these nights are when alone
    With our scarred hearts, we sit in solitude, And some old sorrow, to the world unknown,
  • 25.  
    What is the end of each man's toil,
    Brother, O Brother? A handful of dust in a bit of soil-
  • 26.  
    Back of each soldier who fights for France,
    Aye, back of each woman and man Who toils and prays through these long tense days.
  • 27.  
    Where have they gone to-the little girls
    With natural manners and natural curls; Who love their dollies and like their toys,
  • 28.  
    There was a little comet who lived near the Milky Way!
    She loved to wander out at night and jump about and play.
  • 29.  
    I
    Sir Knight of the world's oldest order,
  • 30.  
    Why sit ye idly dreaming all the day,
    While the golden, precious hours flit away? See you not the day is waning, waning fast?
  • 31.  
    The New Year dawns again upon the earth,
    And all our land re-echoes with its mirth. From east to west, from north to south, we hear
  • 32.  
    In the old wars of the world there were camp-followers,
    Women of ancient sins who gave themselves for hire, Women of weak wills and strong desire.
  • 33.  
    Though critics may bow to art, and I am its own true lover,
    It is not art, but heart, which wins the wide world over. Though smooth be the heartless prayer, no ear in Heaven will mind it,
  • 34.  
    On the white throat of useless passion
    That scorched my soul with its burning breath I clutched my fingers in murderous fashion
  • 35.  
    The flowers have tender little souls
    That love, rejoice, aspire. Each star that on its orbit rolls
  • 36.  
    If any line that I ever penned,
    Or any word I have spoken, Has comforted heart of foe or friend -
  • 37.  
    Do you remember the name I wore â??
    The old pet-name of Little Queen â?? In the dear, dead days that are no more,
  • 38.  
    If I were a raindrop, and you were a leaf,
    I would burst from the cloud above you And lie on your breast in a rapture of rest,
  • 39.  
    DEDICATED TO THE MEN AND WOMEN OF FRANCE
    Our Motherland, dear Motherland,
  • 40.  
    Think of it, think of it over the water
    Thousands of men to-day march on to death, Think how the sun shines on fields red with slaughter-
  • 41.  
    I think that the bitterest sorrow or pain
    Of love unrequited, or cold deathâ??s woe, Is sweet, compared to that hour when we know
  • 42.  
    By the castle-gate my lady stands,
    Viewing broad acres and spreading lands.
  • 43.  
    The longer I live and the more I see
    Of the struggle of souls towards the heights above, The stronger this truth comes home to me---
  • 44.  
    When this world's pleasures for my soul sufficed,
    Ere my heart's plummet sounded depths of pain, I call on Reason to control my brain,
  • 45.  
    Beside us in our seeking after pleasures,
    Through all our restless striving after fame, Thorough all our search for worldly gains and treasures
  • 46.  
    The sun rode high in a cloudless sky
    Of a perfect summer morn. She stood and gazed out into the street,
  • 47.  
    I called to the wind of the Winter,
    As he sped like a steed on his way, 'Oh! rest for awhile on thy journey,
  • 48.  
    The day will dawn when one of us shall hearken
    In vain to hear a voice that has grown dumb. And morns will fade, noons pale, and shadows darken,
  • 49.  
    Who is a Christian in this Christian land
    Of many churches and of lofty spires? Not he who sits in soft upholstered pews
  • 50.  
    Sometimes I feel so passionate a yearning
    For spiritual perfection here below,
Total 710 poems written by Ella Wheeler Wilcox

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Don Marquis Poem
So Let Them Pass, These Songs Of Mine
 by Don Marquis

So let them pass, these songs of mine,
Into oblivion, nor repine;
Abandoned ruins of large schemes,
Dimmed lights adrift from nobler dreams,

Weak wings I sped on quests divine,
So let them pass, these songs of mine.
They soar, or sink ephemeral-
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