Earthly Pride

How baseless is the mightiest earthly pride,
The diamond is but charcoal purified,
The lordliest pearl that decks a monarch's breast
Is but an insect's sepulchre at best.

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

Reform

Ella Wheeler Wilcox, Simple Poetry

A Servian Legend

Ella Wheeler Wilcox, Simple Poetry

To An Astrologer

Ella Wheeler Wilcox, Simple Poetry

English

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Of Pride. From Proverbial Philosophy

Deep is the sea, and deep is hell, but Pride mineth deeper;
It is coiled as a poisonous worm about the foundations of the soul.
If thou expose it in thy motives, and track it in thy springs of thought,
Complacent in its own detection, it will seem indignant virtue;
Smoothly will it gratulate thy skill, O subtle anatomist of self.
And subtle at its very being, while it nestleth the deeper in thy bosom.
Pride is a double traitor, and betrayeth itself to entrap thee,
Making thee vain of thy self knowledge; proud of thy discoveries of pride.
Fruitlessly thou strainest for humility, by darkly diving into self;
Rather look away from innate evil, and gaze upon extraneous good:
For in sounding the deep things of the heart, thou shalt learn to be vain of its capacities.
But in viewing the heig...

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The Earth

The earth is yours and mine,
    Our God's bequest.
That testament divine
    Who dare contest?

Usurpers of the earth,
    We claim our share.
We are of royal birth.
    Beware! beware!

Unloose the hand of greed
    From God's fair land,
We claim but what we need -
    That, we demand.

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Conquest

Talk not of strength, until your heart has known
And fought with weakness through long hours alone.

Talk not of virtue, till your conquering soul
Has met temptation and gained full control.

Boast not of garments, all unscorched by sin,
Till you have passed, unscathed, through fires within.

Oh, poor that pride the unscarred soldier shows,
Who safe in camp, has never faced his foes.

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Noblesse Oblige

I hold it the duty of one who is gifted
    And specially dowered in all men's sight,
To know no rest till his life is lifted
    Fully up to his great gifts' height.

He must mould the man into rare completeness,
    For gems are set only in gold refined.
He must fashion his thoughts into perfect sweetness.
    And cast out folly and pride from his mind.

For he who drinks from a god's gold fountain
    Of art or music or rhythmic song
Must sift from his soul the chaff of malice,
    And weed from his heart the roots of wrong.

Great gifts should be worn, like a crown befitting,
    And not like gems in a beggar's hands!
And the toil must be constant and unremitting
    Which lifts up the king to the crown's demands.

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Behold The Earth

Behold the earth swung in among the stars
Fit home for gods if men were only kind -
Do thou thy part to shape it to those ends,
By shaping thine own life to perfectness.
Seek nothing for thyself or thine own kin
That robs another of one hope or joy,
Let no man toil in poverty and pain
To give thee unearned luxury and ease.
Feed not the hungry servitor with stones,
That idle guests may fatten on thy bread.
Look for the good in stranger and in foe,
Nor save thy praises for the cherished few;
And let the weakest sinner find in thee
An impetus to reach receding heights.
Behold the earth swung in among the stars -
Fit home for gods; wake thou the God within
And by the broad example of thy love
Communicate Omnipotence to men.
All men are unawakened gods:  ...

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Noblesse Oblige.

I hold it the duty of one who is gifted,
    And specially dowered in all men's sight,
To know no rest till his life is lifted
    Fully up to his great gifts' height.

He must mold the man into rare completeness,
    For gems are set only in gold refined.
He must fashion his thoughts into perfect sweetness,
    And cast out folly and pride from his mind.

For he who drinks from a god's gold fountain
    Of art or music or rhythmic song
Must sift from his soul the chaff of malice,
    And weed from his heart the roots of wrong.

Great gifts should be worn, like a crown befitting!
    And not like gems in a beggar's hands.
And the toil must be constant and unremitting
    Which lifts up the king to the crown's demands.

Ella Wheeler Wilcox