If I Could Only Weep

    If I could only weep,
I think sweet help with my salt tears would come,
To ease the cruel pain that is so dumb,
    And will not let me sleep.

    Down in my heart, down deep
A poisoned arrow burns.    It would fall out
And tears would wash the wound, I have no doubt,
    If I could only weep.

    Maybe my pulse would leap,
And bring one thrill back, of a vanished day,
Instead of throbbing in this dull, dead way,
    If I could only weep.

    O silent Fates who steep
Nectar or gall for us through all the years,
Take what thou wilt, but give me back my tears,
    And let me weep and weep.

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

Understood

Ella Wheeler Wilcox, Simple Poetry

Wishes For A Little Girl

Ella Wheeler Wilcox, Simple Poetry

Inspiration

Ella Wheeler Wilcox, Simple Poetry

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Ella Wheeler Wilcox, Simple Poetry

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Desolation.

        I think that the bitterest sorrow or pain
    Of love unrequited, or cold death's woe,
    Is sweet compared to that hour when we know
        That some grand passion is on the wane;

        When we see that the glory and glow and grace
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    Are surely fading, and showing the gray
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        When fond expressions on dull ears fall,
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        When the dream has vanished we fain would keep,
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Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Alone In The House

I am all alone in the house to-night;
    They would not have gone away
Had they known of the terrible, bloodless fight
    I have held with my heart to-day.
With the old sweet love and the old fierce pain
    I have battled hour by hour;
But the fates have willed that the strife is vain.
Alone in the hour my thoughts have reign,
    And I yield myself to their power.

Yield myself to the old time charm
    Of a dream of vanished bliss,
The thrill of a voice, and the fold of an arm,
    And a red lip's lingering kiss.
It all comes back like a flowing tide;
    That brief, but beautiful day.
Though it oft is checked by the dam of pride,
Till the waters flow back to the other side,
    To-night it has broken away.

I gave you all that I had t...

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Worn Out

I saw a young heart in the grasp of pain;
    With bruised breast, and broken, bleeding wing
Shipwrecked on hopeless love's tempestuous main,
    Lay the poor tortured thing.

It pulsed with all the anguish of despair;
    It ached with all a fond heart's awful power;
Yet I, who stood unhurt above it there,
    Envied its lot that hour.

I, who have wasted all the sacred, deep
    Emotions of my soul in spendthrift fashion,
Until no sorrow now can make me weep -
    No joy stir me with passion.

I, who have scattered here and there the gold
    Of my heart's store, until I spent the whole;
Yet unto each so little gave to hold,
    That I enriched no soul.

I, who have sold the birthright of sweet tears,
    And no more feel a thrill in...

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Winter Rain

Falling upon the frozen world last
I heard the slow beat of the Winter rain -
Poor foolish drops, down-dripping all in vain;
The ice-bound Earth but mocked their puny might,
Far better had the fixedness of white
And uncomplaining snows - which make no sign,
But coldly smile, when pitying moonbeams shine -
Concealed its sorrow from all human sight.
Long, long ago, in blurred and burdened years,
I learned the uselessness of uttered woe.
Though sinewy Fate deals her most skilful blow,
    I do not waste the gall now of my tears,
    But feed my pride upon its bitter, while
I look straight in the world's bold eyes, and smile.

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Tired.

        I am tired to-night, and something,
    The wind maybe, or the rain,
        Or the cry of a bird in the copse outside,
    Has brought back the past and its pain.
        And I feel, as I sit here thinking,
    That the hand of a dead old June
        Has reached out hold of my heart's loose strings,
    And is drawing them up in tune.

        I am tired to-night, and I miss you,
    And long for you, love, through tears;
        And it seems but to-day that I saw you go -
    You, who have been gone for years.
        And I seem to be newly lonely -
    I, who am so much alone;
        And the strings of my heart are well in tune,
    But they have not the same old tone.

        I am tired; and that old sorrow
    Sweeps down the bed...

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

A Song.

Is any one sad in the world, I wonder?
    Does any one weep on a day like this,
With the sun above, and the green earth under?
    Why, what is life but a dream of bliss?

With the sun, and the skies, and the birds above me,
    Birds that sing as they wheel and fly -
With the winds to follow and say they love me -
    Who could be lonely? O ho, not I!

Somebody said, in the street this morning,
    As I opened my window to let in the light,
That the darkest day of the world was dawning;
    But I looked, and the East was a gorgeous sight.

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,
    And think it a world worth living in.

Some one says that hearts are fi...

Ella Wheeler Wilcox