Ella Wheeler Wilcox Poems

  • 251.  
    It is a common fate â?? a womanâ??s lot â??
    To waste on one the riches of her soul, Who takes the wealth she gives him, but cannot
  • 252.  
    Who thinks how desolate and strange
    To me must seem the autumn's change, When housed in attic or in chest,
  • 253.  
    I hold it the duty of one who is gifted
    And specially dowered I all menâ??s sight, To know no rest till his life is lifted
  • 254.  
    The gate was thrown open, I rode out alone,
    More proud than a monarch who sits on a throne. I am but a jockey, yet shout upon shout
  • 255.  
    Ho! for the day in the whole year the brightest!
    Long may it live in the heart of the nation! Long may it be ere the names are forgotten
  • 256.  
    What a terrible night! Does the Night, I wonder-
    The Night, with her black veil down to her feet Like an ordained nun, know what lies under
  • 257.  
    Just a little every day-
    That's the way! Seeds in darkness swell and grow,
  • 258.  
    Whatever the task that comes your way,
    Just take it as part of your luck. Look it right square in the eyes, and say,
  • 259.  
    Little by little and one by one,
    Out of the ether, were worlds created; Star and planet and sea and sun,
  • 260.  
    However the battle is ended,
    Though proudly the victor comes With fluttering flags and prancing nags
  • 261.  
    Uncle Rob says,
    That once on a time the fire flies Were stars with the others up in the skies.
  • 262.  
    When the soft sweet wind o' the south went by,
    I dwelt in the light of a dark brown eye; And out where the robin sang his song,
  • 263.  
    Seeking for happiness we must go slowly;
    The road leads not down avenues of haste; But often gently winds through by ways lowly,
  • 264.  
    Do you want to peep into Bedlam Town?
    Then come with me, when the day swings down, Into the cradle, whose rockers rim,
  • 265.  
    'Tis the song of the morning,
    The words of the sun, As he swings o'er the mountains:
  • 266.  
    Oh! that is a beautiful land, I wis,
    The land of the Gone-away Souls. Yes, a lovelier region by far than this
  • 267.  
    Once in the worldâ??s first prime,
    When nothing lived or stirred, Nothing but new-born Time,
  • 268.  
    I strolled last eve across the lonely down;
    One solitary picture struck my eye: A distant ploughboy stood against the skyâ??
  • 269.  
    The God of the day has vanished,
    The light from the hills has fled, And the hand of an unseen artist
  • 270.  
    Long have the poets vaunted, in their lays,
    Old times, old loves, old friendships, and old wine Why should the old monopolise all praise?
  • 271.  
    I gave a beggar from my little store
    Of well-earned gold. He spent the shining ore And came again, and yet again, still cold
  • 272.  
    She rose up in the early dawn,
    And white and silently she moved About the house. Four men had gone
  • 273.  
    I saw them sitting in the shade;
    The long green vines hung over, But could not hide the gold-haired maid
  • 274.  
    In the journey of life, as we travel along
    To the mystical goal that is hidden from sight, You may stumble at times into Roadways of Wrong,
  • 275.  
    You are the moon, dear love, and I the sea:
    The tide of hope swells high within my breast, And hides the rough dark rocks of lifeâ??s unrest
  • 276.  
    I said this morning, as I leaned and threw
    My shutters open to the Spring's surprise, 'Tell me, O Earth, how is it that in you
  • 277.  
    Fire! Fire! Fire! the cry rang out on the night air,
    The roving winds caught it up, and the very heavens resounded. Louder and louder still, by voices grown hoarse with terror,
  • 278.  
    Reply to Rudyard Kiplingâ??s â??He travels the fastest who travels alone.â??
    Who travels alone with his eye on the heights,
  • 279.  
    It seemeth such a little way to me
    Across to that strange country â?? the Beyond; And yet, not strange, for it has grown to be
  • 280.  
    Methinks ofttimes my heart is like some bee
    That goes forth through the summer day and sings, And gathers honey from all growing things
  • 281.  
    However the battle is ended,
    Though proudly the victor comes, With flaunting flags and neighing nags
  • 282.  
    We love but once. The great gold orb of light
    From dawn to eventide doth cast his ray; But the full splendour of his perfect might
  • 283.  
    Now who is ready to go with me
    Off and away to dream town? Oh, such a journey as that will be,
  • 284.  
    Camouflage is all the rage.
    Ladies in their fight with age- Soldiers in their fight with foes-
  • 285.  
    Quite carelessly I turned the newsy sheet;
    A song I sang, full many a year ago, Smiled up at me, as in a busy street
  • 286.  
    Straight through my heart this fact to-day,
    By Truthâ??s own hand is driven: God never takes one thing away,
  • 287.  
  • 288.  
  • 289.  
    The queerest languages known to man,
    Sanscrit, Hebrew, Hindoostan,Are all translated and made as free
  • 290.  
    One ship drives east and another drives west
    With the selfsame winds that blow.Tis the set of the sails
  • 291.  
    Heigh Ho! Well, the seasonâ??s over!
    Once again weâ??ve come to Lent! Programmeâ??s changes from balls and parties â??
  • 292.  
    She must be honest, both in thought and deed,
    Of generous impulse, and above all greed; Not seeking praise, or place, or power, or pelf,
  • 293.  
    Looking some papers over,
    Dusty and dim and old,I found some words that thrilled me
  • 294.  
    This is the way of it, wide world over,
    One is beloved, and one is the lover, One gives and the other receives.
  • 295.  
    The mighty forces of mysterious space
    Are one by one subdued by lordly man. The awful lightning that for eons ran
  • 296.  
    Smile a little, smile a little,
    As you go along, Not alone when life is pleasant,
  • 297.  
    One who claims that he knows about it
    Tells me the earth is a vale of sin;But I and the bees, and the birds we doubt it,
  • 298.  
    To Miss Eva Russell.
    The spring time is deaf to our pleading,The meadows are brown as can be.
  • 299.  
    Sometimes she seems so helpless and mild,
    So full of sweet unreason and so weak, So prone to some capricious whim or freak;
  • 300.  
    I saw a maid with her chivalrous lover:
    He was both tender and true;He kissed her lips, vowing over and over,
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-

Read complete poem

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