Ella Wheeler Wilcox Poems

  • 651.  
    God, what a joy it is to plant a tree,
    And from the sallow earth to watch it rise,Lifting its emerald branches to the skies
  • 652.  
    There are ghosts in the room.
    As I sit here alone, from the dark corners there They come out of the gloom,
  • 653.  
    Dear friend, I pray thee, if thou wouldst be proving
    Thy strong regard for me,Make me no vows. Lip-service is not loving;
  • 654.  
    From feasts abstain; be temperate, and pray;
    Fast if thou wilt; and yet, throughout the day,Neglect no labour and no duty shirk:
  • 655.  
    Let me look always forward. Never back.
    Was I not formed for progress? OtherwiseWith onward pointing feet and searching eyes
  • 656.  
    Thank Fate for foes! I hold mine dear
    As valued friends. He cannot knowThe zest of life who runneth here
  • 657.  
    My thoughts soar not as they ought to soar,
    Higher and higher on soul-lent wings;But ever and often, and more and more
  • 658.  
    The young see heaven-but to the old who wait
    The final call, the hills of youth arise More beautiful than shores of Paradise.
  • 659.  
    Sequestered in their calm domestic bower,
    They sat together. He in manhood's primeAnd she a matron in her fullest flower.
  • 660.  
    As fleecy clouds trail back across the skies,
    Showing the sweet young moon in azure space, The lifted veil revealed her shining face-
  • 661.  
    There was a little pause between the dances;
    Without, somewhere, a tinkling fountain played.The dusky path was lit by ardent glances
  • 662.  
    Love breathed a secret to her listening heart,
    And said “Be silent.” Though she guarded it,And dwelt as one within a world apart,
  • 663.  
    In books I read, how men have lived and died,
    With hopeless love deep in their bosoms hidden.While she for whom they long in secret sighed,
  • 664.  
    He never made a fortune, or a noise
    In the world where men are seeking after fame;But he had a healthy brood of girls and boys
  • 665.  
    A beautiful great lady, past her prime,
    Behold her dreaming in her easy chair; Gray robed, and veiled; in laces old and rare,
  • 666.  
    I step across the mystic border-land,
    And look upon the wonder-world of Art.How beautiful, how beautiful its hills!
  • 667.  
    The Day has never understood the Gloaming or the Night;
    Though sired by one Creative Power, and nursed at Nature's breast;The White Man ever fails to read the Dark Man's heart aright;
  • 668.  
    I know not wherefore, but mine eyes
    See bloom, where other eyes see blight.They find a rainbow, a sunrise,
  • 669.  
    The world has crowned a thousand kings:
    But destiny has keptHer weightiest hour of kingly power
  • 670.  
    I and my Soul are alone to-day,
    All in the shining weather;We were sick of the world, and put it away,
  • 671.  
    Across my window glass
    The moving shadows of the people pass.Sometimes the shadow's pause; and through the hall
  • 672.  
    I can recall a time, when on mine ears
    There fell chaotic sounds of earthly life,Shrill cries of triumph, and hoarse shouts of strife;
  • 673.  
    When first the shadows fell, like prison bars,
    And darkness spread before me, like a pall,I cried out for the sun, the earth, the stars,
  • 674.  
    Now ere I slept, my prayer had been that I might see my way
    To do the will of Christ, our Lord and Master, day by day;And with this prayer upon my lips, I knew not that I dreamed,
  • 675.  
    Last night I knelt low at my lady's feet.
    One soft, caressing hand played with my hair,And one I kissed and fondled. Kneeling there,
  • 676.  
    England, father and mother in one,
    Look on your stalwart son.Sturdy and strong, with the valour of youth,
  • 677.  
    “By-and-bye,” the maiden sighed-”by-and-bye
    He will claim me for his bride,Hope is strong and time is fleet;
  • 678.  
    “Genius, a man's weapon, a woman's burden.”-Lamartine.

  • 679.  
    When in the even ways of life
    The old world jogs along,Our little coloured flags we flaunt:
  • 680.  
    Come to me, Love! Come on the wings of the wind!
    Fly as the ring-dove would fly to his mate!Leave all your cares and your sorrows behind!
  • 681.  
    ‘Be not attached.' So runs the great command
    For those who seek to ‘know' and ‘understand.'Who sounds the waters of the deeper sea
  • 682.  
    They are waking, they are waking,
    In the east, and in the west;They are throwing wide their windows to the sun;
  • 683.  
    There is no summit you may not attain,
    No purpose which you may not yet achieve, If you will wait serenely and believe.
  • 684.  
    WIFE

  • 685.  
    Don't look for the flaws as you go through life;
    And even when you find them,It is wise and kind to be somewhat blind,
  • 686.  
    Of all the waltzes the great Strauss wrote,
    Mad with melody, rhythm-rifeFrom the very first to the final note.
  • 687.  
    On the election of the Roman Emperor Maximus, by the
    Senate, A.D. 238, a powerful army, headed by the Thraciangiant Maximus, laid siege to Aquileia. Though poorly
  • 688.  
    They prize not most the opulence of June
    Who from the year's beginning to its closeDwell, where unfading verdure tireless grows,
  • 689.  
    I hold it one of the sad certain laws
    Which makes our failures sometime seem more kindThan that success which brings sure loss behind-
  • 690.  
    I have been across the bridges of the years.
    Wet with tearsWere the ties on which I trod, going back
  • 691.  
    Along the narrow Moorish street
    A blue-eyed soldier strode. (Ah, well-a-day)
  • 692.  
    I am stirred by the dream of an afternoon
    Of a perfect day-though it was not June;The lilt of winds, and the droning tune
  • 693.  
    Always at sea I think about the dead.
    On barques invisible they seem to sailThe self-same course; and from the decks cry ‘Hail'!
  • 694.  
    All roads that lead to God are good.
    What matters it, your faith, or mine? Both centre at the goal divine
  • 695.  
    “He is mad as a hare, poor fellow,
    And should be in chains,” you say.I haven't a doubt of your statement,
  • 696.  
    The quality folk went riding by,
    All in a coach and four,And pretty Annette, in a calico gown
  • 697.  
    All for me the bumble-bee
    Drones his song in the perfect weather;And, just on purpose to sing to me,
  • 698.  
    Read at Reunion of the G. A. T., Madison, Wis., July 4, 1872.

  • 699.  
    In a garb that was guiltless of colours
    She stood, with a dull, listless air-A creature of dumps and of dolours,
  • 700.  
    I must do as you do? Your way I own
    Is a very good way, and still,There are sometimes two straight roads to a town,
Total 710 poems written by Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Poem of the day

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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