Ella Wheeler Wilcox Poems

  • 401.  
    I shall not forget you. The years may be tender,
    But vain are their efforts to soften my smart;And the strong hands of Time are too feeble and slender
  • 402.  
    With care, and skill, and cunning art
    She parried Time's malicious dart,And kept the years at bay,
  • 403.  
    The devil in hell gave a festival,
    And he called his imps from their wine-Called them up from the ruddy cup,
  • 404.  
    â??Tis time to dress. Dost hear the music surging
    Like sobbing waves that roll up from the sea? Yes, yes, I hear â?? I yield â?? no need of urging;
  • 405.  
    So thou hast the art, good dame, thou swearest,
    To keep Time's perishing touch at bayFrom the roseate splendor of the cheek so tender,
  • 406.  
    The meadow larkâ??s trill and the brown thrushâ??s whistle
    From morning to evening fill all the sweet air, And my heart is as light as the down of a thistle â??
  • 407.  
    There are not many sins when once we sift them.
    In actions of evolving human soulsStriving to reach high goals
  • 408.  
    How can I wait until you come to me?
    The once fleet mornings linger by the way; Their sunny smiles touched with malicious glee
  • 409.  
    We will lay our summer away, my friend,
    So tenderly lay it away.It was bright and sweet to the very end,
  • 410.  
    But to every mind there openeth,
    A way, and way, and away,A high soul climbs the highway,
  • 411.  
    I know it is early morning,
    And hope is calling aloud, And your heart is afire with Youthâ??s desire
  • 412.  
    There is a certain castle that is beautiful and fair,
    And plants, and birds, and pretty things, fill every room and hall,But alas! for the unhappy folks who make their dwelling there,
  • 413.  
    The pessimist locust, last to leaf,
    Though all the world is glad, still talks of grief.
  • 414.  
    I'm sick of 'musn'ts,' said Dorothy D.
    Sick of musn'ts, as I can be.From early dawn till the close of day
  • 415.  
    Some day, when the golden glory
    Of June is over the earth, And the birds are singing together
  • 416.  
    In the dark night, from sweet refreshing sleep

  • 417.  
    Somewhere I've read a thoughtful mind's reflection:
    'All perfect things are three-fold'; and I knowOur love has the rare symbol of perfection;
  • 418.  
    When you go away, my friend,
    When you say your last good-bye, Then the summer time will end,
  • 419.  
    Immortal life is something to be earned,
    By slow, self-conquest, comradeship with pain,And patient seeking after higher truths.
  • 420.  
    Well, how has it been with you since we met
    That last strange time of a hundred times?When we met to swear that we could forgetâ??
  • 421.  
    The winds came out of the west one day,
    And hurried the clouds before them; And drove the shadows and mists away,
  • 422.  
    When love is lost, the day sets towards the night,
    Albeit the morning sun may still be bright,And not one cloud-ship sails across the sky.
  • 423.  
    How baseless is the mightiest earthly pride,
    The diamond is but charcoal purified, The lordliest pearl that decks a monarchâ??s breast
  • 424.  
    'Black sheep, black sheep, have you any wool?'
    'Yes, sir-yes, sir: three bags full.'
  • 425.  
    Sometimes, when I am toil-worn and aweary,
    And tired out with working long and well, And earth is dark, and skies above are dreary,
  • 426.  
    How does Love speak?
    In the faint flush upon the tell-tale cheek, And in the pallor that succeeds it; by
  • 427.  
    Don't bring into the lodge-room
    Anger, and spite, and pride.Drop at the gate of the temple
  • 428.  
    In the face of the sun are great thunderbolts hurled,
    And the storm-clouds have shut out its light;But a Rainbow of Promise now shines on the world,
  • 429.  
    Long have I searched, Cathedral shrine, and hall,
    To find a symbol, from the hand of art,That gave the full expression (not a part)
  • 430.  
    The beautiful and slender young New Moon,
    In trailing robes of pink and palest blue, Swept close to Venus, and breathed low: 'A boon,
  • 431.  
    The fields were bleak and sodden. Not a wing
    Or note enlivened the depressing wood, A soiled and sullen, stubborn snowdrift stood
  • 432.  

  • 433.  
    Why do we grudge our sweets so to the living
    Who, God knows, find at best too much of gall,And then with generous, open hands kneel, giving
  • 434.  
    Build on resolve, and not upon regret,
    The structure of thy future. Do not gropeAmong the shadows of old sins, but let
  • 435.  
    I will paint you a sign, rumseller,
    And hang it above your door;A truer and better signboard
  • 436.  
    Our lives are songs. God writes the words,
    And we set them to music at pleasure;And the song grows glad, or sweet, or sad,
  • 437.  
    I am troubled to-night with a curious pain;

  • 438.  
    I'd rather have my verses win
    A place in common people's hearts, Who, toiling through the strife and din
  • 439.  
    Oh! it is not just the men who face the guns,
    Not the fighters at the Front alone, to-dayWho will bring the longed-for close to the bloody fray, for those
  • 440.  

  • 441.  
    Every morning, as I walk down
    From my dreary lodgings, toward the town, I see at a window, near the street,
  • 442.  
    Sirs, when you pity us, I say
    You waste your pity. Let it stay, Well corked and stored upon your shelves,
  • 443.  
    I sit in the twilight dim
    At the close of an idle day, And I list to the soft sweet hymn,
  • 444.  
    'Tis not the untried soldier new to danger
    Who fears to enter into active strife.Amidst the roll of drums, the cannon's rattle,
  • 445.  
    When from dawn till noon seems one long day,
    And from noon till night another,Oh, then should a little boy come from play,
  • 446.  
    One night Nurse Sleep held out her hand
    To tired little May.'Come, go with me to Wonderland,'
  • 447.  
    In the dawn of the day, when the sea and the earth
    Reflected the sunrise above, I set forth, with a heart full of courage and mirth,
  • 448.  
    She sits beside the window. All who pass
    Turn once again to gaze on her sweet face.She is so fair; but soon, too soon, alas,
  • 449.  
    The man of God stands, on the Sabbath-day,
    Warning the sinners from the broad highwayThat leads to death. He rolls his pious eye,
  • 450.  
    I saw a Christian, a temperance man,
    Casting his ballot one day at the polls:One who believes he does what he can
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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