Dual

You say that your nature is double; that life
    Seems more and more intricate, complex, and dual,
Because in your bosom there wages the strife
    'Twixt an angel of light and a beast that is cruel -
An angel who whispers your spirit has wings,
And a beast who would chain you to temporal things.

I listen with interest to all you have told,
    And now let me give you my view of your trouble:
You are to be envied, not pitied; I hold
    THAT EVERY STRONG NATURE IS ALWAYS MADE DOUBLE.
The beast has his purpose; he need not be slain:
He should serve the good angel in harness and chain.

The body that never knows carnal desires,
    The heart that to passion is always a stranger,
Is merely a furnace with unlighted fires;
    It sends forth no warmth while it threatens no danger.
But who wants to shiver in cold safety there?
TOUCH FLAME TO THE FUEL! then watch it with care.

Those wild, fierce emotions that trouble your soul
    Are sparks from the great source of passion and power;
Throne reason above them, and give it control,
    And turn into blessing this dangerous dower.
By lightnings unguided destruction is hurled,
But chained and directed they gladden the world.

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Ella Wheeler Wilcox was an American author and poet, born on November 5, 1850, and died on October 30, 1919. She was known for her works expressing optimistic views and moral lessons. Her most famous book was 'Poems of Passion'. Her poem 'Solitude' contains the famous lines, 'Laugh, and the world laughs with you; weep, and you weep alone'. Over her career, Wilcox became popularly known as a 'people's poet'.

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Regret And Remorse

Ella Wheeler Wilcox, Simple Poetry

Only Be Still

Ella Wheeler Wilcox, Simple Poetry

Artist's Life.

Ella Wheeler Wilcox, Simple Poetry

Womanhood

Ella Wheeler Wilcox, Simple Poetry

English

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Duality

Within me are two souls that pity each
The other for the ends they seek, yet smile
Forgiveness, as two friends that love the while
The folly against which each feigns to preach.

And while one barters in the market-place,
Or drains the cup before the tavern fire,
The other, winged with a divine desire,
searches the solitary wastes of space.

And if o'ercome with pleasure this one sleeps,
The other steals away to lay its ear
Upon some lip just cold, perchance to hear
Those wondrous secrets which it knows and keeps!

Arthur Sherburne Hardy

As By Fire.

        Sometimes I feel so passionate a yearning
    For spiritual perfection here below,
        This vigorous frame, with healthful fervor burning,
    Seems my determined foe,

        So actively it makes a stern resistance,
    So cruelly sometimes it wages war
        Against a wholly spiritual existence
    Which I am striving for.

        It interrupts my soul's intense devotions;
    Some hope it strangles, of divinest birth,
        With a swift rush of violent emotions
    Which link me to the earth.

        It is as if two mortal foes contended
    Within my bosom in a deadly strife,
        One for the loftier aims for souls intended,
    One for the earthly life.

        And yet I know this very war within me,
    Whi...

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

A Woman's Answer

You call me an angel of love and of light,
    A being of goodness and heavenly fire,
Sent out from God's kingdom to guide you aright,
    In paths where your spirit may mount and aspire,
You say that I glow like a star on its course,
Like a ray from the altar, a spark from the source.

Now list to my answer - let all the world hear it,
    I speak unafraid what I know to be true -
A pure, faithful love is the creative spirit
    Which make women angels!    I live but in you.
We are bound soul to soul by life's holiest laws;
If I am an angel - why, you are the cause.

As my ship skims the sea, I look up from the deck.
    Fair, firm at the wheel shines Love's beautiful form.
And shall I curse the bark that last night went to wreck
    By the pilot abandon...

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Twin-Born.

        He who possesses virtue at its best,
    Or greatness in the true sense of the word,
    Has one day started even with that herd
        Whose swift feet now speed but at sin's behest.
        It is the same force in the human breast
    Which makes men gods or demons. If we gird
    Those strong emotions by which we are stirred
        With might of will and purpose, heights unguessed
    Shall dawn for us; or if we give them sway
        We can sink down and consort with the lost.
        All virtue is worth just the price it cost.
    Black sin is oft white truth that missed its way
        And wandered off in paths not understood.
        Twin-born I hold great evil and great good.

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

The Law

The sun may be clouded, yet ever the sun
Will sweep on its course till the cycle is run.
And when into chaos the systems are hurled,
Again shall the Builder reshape a new world.

Your path may be clouded, uncertain your goal;
Move on, for the orbit is fixed for your soul.
And though it may lead into darkness of night,
The torch of the Builder shall give it new light.

You were, and you will be:    know this while you are.
Your spirit has travelled both long and afar.
It came from the Source, to the Source it returns;
The spark that was lighted, eternally burns.

It slept in the jewel, it leaped in the wave,
It roamed in the forest, it rose in the grave,
It took on strange garbs for long aeons of years,
And now in the soul of yourself it appears.

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

The Spinster

I

Here are the orchard trees all large with fruit;
And yonder fields are golden with young grain.
In little journeys, branchward from the nest,
A mother bird, with sweet insistent cries,
Urges her young to use their untried wings.
A purring Tabby, stretched upon the sward,
Shuts and expands her velvet paws in joy,
While sturdy kittens nuzzle at her breast.

O mighty Maker of the Universe,
Am I not part and parcel of Thy World,
And one with Nature?    Wherefore, then, in me
Must this great reproductive impulse lie
Hidden, ashamed, unnourished, and denied,
Until it starves to slow and tortuous death?
I knew the hope of spring-time; like the tree
Now ripe with fruit, I budded, and then bloomed;
We laughed together through the young May morns;

Ella Wheeler Wilcox