Ella Wheeler Wilcox Poems

  • 151.  
    With each strong thought, with every earnest longing
    For aught thou deemest needful to thy soul, Invisible vast forces are set thronging
  • 152.  
    The sun may be clouded, yet ever the sun
    Will sweep on its course till the cycle is run. And when onto chaos the systems are hurled,
  • 153.  
    Talk happiness. The world is sad enough
    Without your woe. No path is wholly rough. Look for the places that are smooth and clear,
  • 154.  
    He said he loved me! Then he called my hair
    Silk threads wherewith sly Cupid strings his bow, My cheek a rose leaf fallen on new snow;
  • 155.  
    Not Atlas, with his shoulders bent beneath the weighty world,
    Bore such a burden as this man, on whom the Gods have hurled The evils of old festering lands-yea, hurled them in their might
  • 156.  
    Time flies. The swift hours hurry by
    And speed us on to untried ways; New seasons ripen, perish, die,
  • 157.  
    A Girlâ??s Reverie
    Mother says, â??Be in no hurry,
  • 158.  
    Oh! the maidens of France are certainly fine,
    And I think every fellow will state That the 'what-you-may-call-it' coiffured way
  • 159.  
    When night hung low and dew fell damp,
    There fell athwart the shadows The gleaming watchfires of the camp,
  • 160.  
    Little by little the year grows old,
    The red leaves drop from the maple boughs; The sun grows dim, and the winds blow cold,
  • 161.  
    Lightly they hold him and lightly they sway him-
    Soft as a pillow are somebody's arms. Down he goes slowly, ever so lowly
  • 162.  
    A yacht from its harbour ropes pulled free,
    And leaped like a steed oâ??er the race track blue, Then up behind her, the dust of the sea,
  • 163.  
    A CURIOUS vision, on mine eyes unfurled
    In the deep night. I saw, or seemed to see, Two Centuries meet, and sit down vis-a-vis,
  • 164.  
    Hadst thou a ship, in whose vast hold lay stored
    The priceless riches of all climes and lands, Say, woudst thou let it float upon the seas
  • 165.  
    In every part of the thrifty town,
    Whether my course be up or down, In lane, and alley, and avenue,
  • 166.  
    The passion you forbade my lips to utter
    Will not be silenced. You must hear it in The sullen thunders when they roll and mutter:
  • 167.  
    There was a man, it was said one time,
    Who went astray in his youthful prime. Can the brain keep cool and the heart keep quiet
  • 168.  
    If one poor burdened toiler oâ??er lifeâ??s road,
    Who meets us by the way, Goes on less conscious of his galling load,
  • 169.  
    The bold young Autumn came riding along
    One day where an elm-tree grew. 'You are fair,' he said, as she bent down her head,
  • 170.  
    Hers was a lonely, shadowed lot;
    Or so the unperceiving thought, Who looked no deeper than her face,
  • 171.  
    We plucked a red rose, you and I
    All in the summer weather; Sweet its perfume and rare its bloom,
  • 172.  
    Beside a crib that holds a babyâ??s stocking,
    A tattered picture book, a broken toy, A sleeping mother dreams that she is rocking
  • 173.  
    Timeâ??s finger on the dial of my life
    Points to high noon! And yet the half-spent day Leaves less than half remaining, for the dark,
  • 174.  
    Should some great angel say to me to-morrow,
    â??Thou must re-tread thy pathway from the start, But God will grant, in pity, for thy sorrow,
  • 175.  
    Sitting to-day in the sunshine,
    That touched me with fingers of love, I thought of the manifold blessings
  • 176.  
    Because of the fullness of what I had,
    All that I have seems poor and vain. If I had not been happy, I were not sad--
  • 177.  
    I knew it the first of the summer,
    I knew it the same at the end, That you and your love were plighted,
  • 178.  
    Why do we pity those who weep? The pain
    That finds a ready outlet in the flow
  • 179.  
    This is the song for a soldier
    To sing as he rides from home To the fields afar where the battles are
  • 180.  
    Oh, I know a certain lady who is reckoned with the good,
    Yet she fills me with more terror than a raging lion would. The little chills run up and down my spine wheneâ??er we meet,
  • 181.  
    There was a boy named Grumble Tone, who ran away to sea.
    'I'm sick of things on land,' he said, 'as sick as I can be, A life upon the bounding wave is just the life for me!'
  • 182.  
    Don't drink, boys, don't!
    There is nothing of happiness, pleasure, or cheer, In brandy, in whiskey, in rum, ale, or beer.
  • 183.  
    All in the beautiful Autumn weather
    One thought lingers with me and stays; Death and winter are coming together,
  • 184.  
    Not like a daring, bold, aggressive boy,
    Is inspiration, eager to pursue, But rather like a maiden, fond, yet coy,
  • 185.  
    We
    met at night in the season's hight, Mid revel and mirth and song.
  • 186.  
    Dear Love, where the red lilies blossomed and grew
    The white snows are falling;
  • 187.  
    Said the manicure scissors one day,
    'The shears always have their own way, And I think it absurd
  • 188.  
    I love your lips when they're wet with wine
    And red with a wild desire; I love your eyes when the lovelight lies
  • 189.  
    In France I saw a hill-a gentle slope
    Rising above old tombs to greet the gleam From soft spring skies. Beyond these skies dwells hope,
  • 190.  
    There was a fair green garden sloping
    From the south-east side of the mountain-ledge; And the earliest tint of the dawn came groping
  • 191.  
    You call me an angel of love and of light,
    A being of goodness and heavenly fire, Sent out from Godâ??s kingdom to guide you aright,
  • 192.  
    You left me with the autumn time;
    When the winter stripped the forest bare, Then dressed it in his spotless rime;
  • 193.  
    Whoever was begotten by pure love,
    And came desired and welcome into life,
  • 194.  
    Time has made conquest of so many things
    That once were mine. Swift-footed, eager youth That ran to meet the years; bold brigand health,
  • 195.  
    I loved a maiden, long ago,
    She held within her hand my fate; And in the ruddy sunset glow
  • 196.  
    When you launch your bark for sailing
    On the sea of life, O youth! Clothe your heart and soul and spirit
  • 197.  
    I have not the gift of vision,
    I have not the psychic ear, And the realms that are called Elysian
  • 198.  
    I dwell in the western inland,
    Afar from the sounding sea, But I seem to hear it sobbing
  • 199.  
    Well, Mabel, 'tis over and ended---
    The ball I wrote was to be; And oh! it was perfectly splendid---
  • 200.  
    Of all the waltzes the great Strauss wrote,
    mad with melody, rhythm--rife From the very first to the final note,
Total 710 poems written by Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Poem of the day

Christina Rossetti Poem
In Progress
 by Christina Rossetti

Ten years ago it seemed impossible
That she should ever grow so calm as this,
With self-remembrance in her warmest kiss
And dim dried eyes like an exhausted well.
Slow-speaking when she has some fact to tell,
Silent with long-unbroken silences,
Centred in self yet not unpleased to please,
Gravely monotonous like a passing bell.
...

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