Ella Wheeler Wilcox Poems
A collection of select Ella Wheeler Wilcox famous poems that were written by Ella Wheeler Wilcox or written about the poet by other famous poets. PoetrySoup is a comprehensive educational resource of the greatest poems and poets on history.
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by
Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Do you remember the name I wore –
The old pet-name of Little Queen –
In the dear, dead days that are no more,
The happiest days of our lives, I ween?
For we loved with that passionate love of youth
That blesses but once with its perfect bliss, -
A love that, in spite of its trust and truth,
Seems never to...Read more of this...
by
Ella Wheeler Wilcox
It
I may not reach the heights I seek,
My untried strength may fail me;
Or, halfway up the mountain peak
Fierce tempests may assail me.
But though that place I never gain,
Herein lies the comfort for my pain –
I will be worthy of it.
I may not triumph in success,
Despite my earnest labour;
I may not grasp results that bless
The...Read more of this...
by
Ella Wheeler Wilcox
I see the tall church steeples,
They reach so far, so far,
But the eyes of my heart see the world’s great mart,
Where the starving people are.
I hear the church bells ringing
Their chimes on the morning air;
But my soul’s sad ear is hurt to hear
The poor man’s cry of despair.
Thicker and thicker the churches,
Nearer and nearer...Read more of this...
by
Ella Wheeler Wilcox
If any line that I ever penned,
Or any word I have spoken,
Has comforted heart of foe or friend -
In any way, why my life, I'll say,
Has reaped the reward of labour,
If aught I have said, or written, has made
Gladder the heart o' my neighbour.
If any deed that I ever did
Lightened a sad heart's sorrow,
If...Read more of this...
by
Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Time’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,
Bleak shadows of the grave engulf the end.
To those who burn the candle to the stick,
The sputtering socket yields but little light.
Long life is sadder than early death.
We cannot count on raveled threads of age
Whereof...Read more of this...
by
Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Toward even when the day leans down,
To kiss the upturned face of night,
Out just beyond the loud-voiced town
I know a spot of calm delight.
Like crimson arrows from a quiver
The red rays pierce the water flowing,
While we go dreaming, singing, rowing,
To Leudeman's-on-the-River.
The hills, like some glad mocking-bird,
Send back our laughter and our...Read more of this...
by
Ella Wheeler Wilcox
It seemeth such a little way to me
Across to that strange country – the Beyond;
And yet, not strange, for it has grown to be
The home of those whom I am so fond,
They make it seem familiar and most dear,
As journeying friends bring distant regions near.
So close it lies, that when my sight is clear
I think I almost see the...Read more of this...
by
Ella Wheeler Wilcox
‘Anticipation is sweeter than realisation.’
It may be, yet I have not found it so.
In those first golden dreams of future fame
I did not find such happiness as came
When toil was crowned with triumph. Now I know
My words have recognition, and will go
Straight to some listening heart, my early aim,
To win the idle glory of a name,
Pales like...Read more of this...
by
Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Upon the white cheek of the Cherub Year
I saw a tear.
Alas! I murmured, that the Year should borrow
So soon a sorrow.
Just then the sunlight fell with sudden flame:
A tear became
A wondrous diamond sparkling in the light –
A beautiful sight.
Upon my soul there fell such woeful loss,
I said, ‘The Cross
Is grievous for a life as young as mine.’
Just...Read more of this...
by
Ella Wheeler Wilcox
I wandered o'er the vast green plains of youth,
And searched for Pleasure. On a distant height
Fame's silhouette stood sharp against the skies.
Beyond vast crowds that thronged a broad highway
I caught the glimmer of a golden goal,
While from a blooming bower smiled siren Love.
Straight gazing in her eyes, I laughed at Love,
With all the haughty insolence of...Read more of this...
by
Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Beside a crib that holds a baby’s stocking,
A tattered picture book, a broken toy,
A sleeping mother dreams that she is rocking
Her fair-haired cherub boy.
Upon the cradle’s side her light touch keeping,
She gently rocks it, crooning low a song;
And smiles to think her little one is sleeping,
So peacefully and long.
Step light, breathe low, break not her rapturous dreaming,
Wake not the...Read more of this...
by
Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Soar not too high, O bird of Hope!
Because the skies are fair;
The tempest may come on apace
And overcome thee there.
When far above the mountain tops
Thou soarest, over all –
If, then, the storm should press thee back,
How great would be thy fall!
And thou wouldst lie here at my feet,
A poor and lifeless thing, -
A torn and bleeding birdling,
With limp and...Read more of this...
by
Ella Wheeler Wilcox
I sit in the twilight dim
At the close of an idle day,
And I list to the soft sweet hymn,
That rises far away,
And dies on the evening air.
Oh, all day long,
They sing their song,
Who toil in the valley there.
But never a song sing I,
Sitting with folded hands,
The hours pass me by -
Dropping their...Read more of this...
by
Ella Wheeler Wilcox
After the fierce midsummer all ablaze
Has burned itself to ashes, and expires
In the intensity of its own fires,
There come the mellow, mild, St. Martin days
Crowned with the calm of peace, but sad with haze.
So after Love has led us, till he tires
Of his own throes, and torments, and desires,
Comes large-eyed Friendship: with a restful gaze.
He beckons us...Read more of this...
by
Ella Wheeler Wilcox
All in the beautiful Autumn weather
One thought lingers with me and stays;
Death and winter are coming together,
Though both are veiled by the amber haze
I look on the forest of royal splendour!
I look on the face in my quiet room;
A face all beautiful, sad and tender,
And both are stamped with the seal of doom.
All through...Read more of this...
by
Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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
Each outside purpose which my life has known.
Stars cannot shine so near that vast orb's splendor,
They are content to feed his flames of fire;
And so my heart is satisfied to render...Read more of this...
by
Ella Wheeler Wilcox
We will be what we could be. Do not say,
"It might have been, had not this, or that, or this."
No fate can keep us from the chosen way;
He only might who is.
We will do what we could do. Do not dream
Chance leaves a hero, all uncrowned to grieve.
I hold, all men are greatly what they seem;
He does, who could...Read more of this...
by
Ella Wheeler Wilcox
My thoughts soar not as they ought to soar,
Higher and higher on soul-lent wings;
But ever and often and more and more
They are dragged down earthward by little things,
By little troubles and little needs,
As a lark might be tangled among the weeds.
My purpose is not what it ought to be,
Steady and fixed, like a...Read more of this...
by
Ella Wheeler Wilcox
I love your lips when they're wet with wine
And red with a wild desire;
I love your eyes when the lovelight lies
Lit with a passionate fire.
I love your arms when the warm white flesh
Touches mine in a fond embrace;
I love your hair when the strands enmesh
Your kisses against my face.
Not for me...Read more of this...
by
Ella Wheeler Wilcox
My soul is like a poor caged bird to-night,
Beating its wings against the prison bars,
Longing to reach the outer world of light,
And, all untrammelled, soar among the stars.
Wild, mighty thoughts struggle within my soul
For utterance. Great waves of passion roll
Through all my being. As the lightnings play
Through thunder clouds, so beams of blinding light
Flash for a moment on my...Read more of this...
by
Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Let no man pray that he know not sorrow,
Let no soul ask to be free from pain,
For the gall of to-day is the sweet of to-morrow,
And the moment's loss is the lifetime's gain.
Through want of a thing does its worth redouble,
Through hunger's pangs does the feast content,
And only the heart that has harbored trouble,
Can fully rejoice when joy is...Read more of this...
by
Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Straight through my heart this fact to-day,
By Truth’s own hand is driven:
God never takes one thing away,
But something else is given.
I did not know in earlier years,
This law of love and kindness;
I only mourned through bitter tears
My loss, in sorrow’s blindness.
But, ever following each regret
O’er some departed treasure,
My sad repining heart was met
With...Read more of this...
by
Ella Wheeler Wilcox
However the battle is ended,
Though proudly the victor comes,
With flaunting flags and neighing nags
And echoing roll of drums;
Still truth proclaims this motto
In letters of living light,
No question is ever settled
Until it is settled right.
Though the heel of the strong oppressor
May grind the weak in the dust,
And the voices of fame with one acclaim
May call...Read more of this...
by
Ella Wheeler Wilcox
It is easy to sit in the sunshine
And talk to the man in the shade;
It is easy to float in a well-trimmed boat,
And point out the places to wade.
But once we pass into the shadows,
We murmur and fret and frown,
And, our length from the bank, we shout for a plank,
Or throw up our hands...Read more of this...
by
Ella Wheeler Wilcox
‘Tis time to dress. Dost hear the music surging
Like sobbing waves that roll up from the sea?
Yes, yes, I hear – I yield – no need of urging;
I know your wishes, - send Lisette to me.
I hate the ballroom; hate its gilded pleasure;
I hate the crowd within it, well you know;
But what of that? I am your lawful treasure...Read more of this...