If One Should Dive Deep

Once more on the beach with the shifting clouds o'er me
    (Like the friends of a day),
And the sea all unchanged, like a true friend before me,
    How the years flow away,
    How the summers go by.

The shifting clouds o'er me, the shifting sands under;
    Why need it seem strange,
Why need I feel bitter, and why should I wonder
    That hearts, too, should change
    As the summers go by.

Down here is the path where we wandered together,
    'Neath the midsummer moon.
Her love was sweet as the sweet summer weather,
    And left us as soon,
    And the summers go by.

The bathers laugh loud in the surf over yonder.
    If one should dive deep,
And rise not -no more need he suffer or ponder
    O'er losses, or weep,
    But sink low and sleep
    While the summers go by.

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

All In A Coach And Four

Ella Wheeler Wilcox, Simple Poetry

An Old Bouquet

Ella Wheeler Wilcox, Simple Poetry

Give

Ella Wheeler Wilcox, Simple Poetry

Smiles

Ella Wheeler Wilcox, Simple Poetry

English

Suggested Poems

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Reminders

When in the early dawn I hear the thrushes,
    And like a flood of waters o'er my heart
The memory of another summer rushes,
    How can I rise up, and perform my part?

When in the languid eve I hear the wailing
    Of the uncomforted sad mourning dove,
Whose grief, like mine, seems deep as unavailing,
    What will I do with all this wealth of love?

When the sweet rain falls over hills and meadows,
    And the tall poplar's silver leaves are wet,
And, like my soul, the world seems draped in shadow,
    How shall I hush this passionate regret?

When the wild bee is wooing the red clover,
    And the fair rose smiles on the butterfly,
Missing thy smile and kiss, O love, my lover,
    Who on God's earth so desolate as I?

My tortured sense...

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Leudemanns-On-The-River.

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 waters flowing,
    While we go dreaming, singing, rowing
To Leudemanns-on-the-River.

The hills, like some glad mocking-bird,
    Send back our laughter and our singing,
While faint - and yet more faint is heard
    The steeple bells all sweetly ringing.
Some message did the winds deliver
    To each glad heart that August night,
    All heard, but all heard not aright,
By Leudemanns-on-the-River.

Night falls as in some foreign clime,
    Between the hills that slope and rise.
So dusk the shades at landing-time,
    We could n...

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Summer's Farewell

All in the time when Earth did most deplore
    The cold, ungracious aspect of young May,
Sweet Summer came, and bade him smile once more;
    She wove bright garlands, and in winsome play
    She bound him willing captive.    Day by day
She found new wiles wherewith his heart to please;
    Or bright the sun, or if the skies were gray,
They laughed together, under spreading trees,
By running brooks, or on the sandy shores of seas.

They were but comrades.    To that radiant maid
    No serious word he spake; no lovers' plea.
Like careless children, glad and unafraid,
    They sported in their opulence of glee.
    Her shining tresses floated wild and free;
In simple lines her emerald garments hung;
    She was both good to hear, and fair to see;
And when...

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Leudemann's-On-The-River.

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 waters flowing
While we go dreaming, singing, rowing
    To Leudemann's-on-the-River.

The hills, like some glad mocking-bird,
    Send back our laughter and our singing,
While faint - and yet more faint is heard
    The steeple bells all sweetly ringing.
Some message did the winds deliver
    To each glad heart that August night,
All heard, but all heard not aright;
    By Leudemann's-on-the-River.

Night falls as in some foreign clime,
    Between the hills that slope and rise.
So dusk the shades at landing time,
    We could n...

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

An Autumn Day

Leaden skies and a lonesome shadow
    Where summer has passed with her gorgeous train;
Snow on the mountain, and frost on the meadow -
    A white face pressed to the window pane;
A cold mist falling, a bleak wind calling,
    And oh! but life seems vain.

Rain is better than golden weather,
    When the heart is dulled with a dumb despair.
Dead leaves lie where they walked together,
    The hammock is gone, and the rustic chair.
Let bleak snows cover the whole world over -
    It will never again seem fair.

Time laughs lightly at youth's sad 'Never,'
    Summer shall come again, smiling once more,
High o'er the cold world the sun shines for ever,
    Hearts that seemed dead are alive at the core.
Oh, but the pain of it -oh, but the gain of it,

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Midsummer.

After the May time, and after the June time
    Rare with blossoms and perfumes sweet,
Cometh the round world's royal noon time,
    The red midsummer of blazing heat.
When the sun, like an eye that never closes,
    Bends on the earth its fervid gaze,
And the winds are still, and the crimson roses
    Droop and wither and die in its rays.

Unto my heart has come that season,
    O my lady, my worshiped one,
When over the stars of Pride and Reason
    Sails Love's cloudless, noonday sun.
Like a great red ball in my bosom burning
    With fires that nothing can quench or tame.
It glows till my heart itself seems turning
    Into a liquid lake of flame.

The hopes half shy, and the sighs all tender,
    The dreams and fears of an earlier day,

Ella Wheeler Wilcox