Little Girls

Whether you frolic with comrade boys,
Or sit at your studies, or play with toys,
Whatever your station, or place, or sphere,
For just one purpose God sent you here;
And always and ever, you are to me -
Dear little Mothers, of Men to be.

So would I guard you from all mean things;
From the dwarfing of wealth, and from poverty's stings.
And from silly mothers of fuss and show,
And from dissolute fathers whose aims are low,
I would take you, and shield you, and set you free,
Dear little Mothers, of Men to be.

And then were the wish of my heart fulfilled,
Around about you, the world should build
A wall of Wisdom, with Truth for its Tower,
Where mind and body would wax in power,
Till the tender twig was a splendid tree -
Dear little Mothers, of Men to be.

It is only a dream; but the world grows wise,
And a mighty truth in the dream seed lies
That shall gladden the earth, in its time and place.
WE MUST BETTER THE MOTHERS TO BETTER THE RACE.
A dream? nay, a vision, which all must see,
Dear little Mothers, of Men to be.

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

Inevitable.

Ella Wheeler Wilcox, Simple Poetry

The Revolt Of Vashti (From The Drama Of Mizpah)

Ella Wheeler Wilcox, Simple Poetry

Why I Love Her

Ella Wheeler Wilcox, Simple Poetry

Satiety

Ella Wheeler Wilcox, Simple Poetry

English

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Completion

When I shall meet God's generous dispensers
    Of all the riches in the heavenly store,
Those lesser gods, who act as Recompensers
    For loneliness and loss upon this shore,
Methinks abashed, and somewhat hesitating,
    My soul its wish and longing will declare.
Lest they reply:    'Here are no bounties waiting:
    We gave on earth, your portion and your share.'

Then shall I answer:    'Yea, I do remember
    The many blessings to my life allowed;
My June was always longer than December,
    My sun was always stronger than my cloud,
My joy was ever deeper than my sorrow,
    My gain was ever greater than my loss,
My yesterday seemed less than my to-morrow,
    The crown looked always larger than the cross.

'I have known love, in all its radian...

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

The Silent Tragedy

The deepest tragedies of life are not
Put into books, or acted on the stage.
Nay, they are lived in silence, by tense hearts
In homes, among dull unperceiving kin,
And thoughtless friends, who make a whip of words
Wherewith to lash these hearts, and call it wit.

There is a tragedy lived everywhere
In Christian lands, by an increasing horde
Of women martyrs to our social laws.
Women whose hearts cry out for motherhood;
Women whose bosoms ache for little heads;
Women God meant for mothers, but whose lives
Have been restrained, restricted, and denied
Their natural channels, till at last they stand
Unmated and alone, by that sad sea
Whose slow receding tide returns no more.
Men meet great sorrows; but no man can grasp
The depth, and height, of such a gr...

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Lord, Speak Again

When God had formed the Universe, He thought
Of all the marvels therein to be wrought
And to His aid then Motherhood was brought.

'My lesser self, the feminine of Me,
She will go forth throughout all time,' quoth He,
'And make My world what I would have it be.

'For I am weary, having laboured so,
And for a cycle of repose would go
Into that silence which but God may know.

'Therefore I leave the rounding of My plan
To Motherhood; and that which I began
Let woman finish in perfecting man.

'She is the soil:    the human Mother Earth:
She is the sun, that calls the seed to earth.
She is the gardener, who knows its worth.

'From Me, all seed, of any kind must spring.
Divine the growth such seed and soil will bring.
For all is Me, a...

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

What We Needed.

What does our country need? Not armies standing
    With sabres gleaming ready for the fight.
Not increased navies, skillful and commanding,
    To bound the waters with an iron might.
Not haughty men with glutted purses trying
    To purchase souls, and keep the power of place.
Not jeweled dolls with one another vieing
    For palms of beauty, elegance and grace.

But we want women, strong of soul, yet lowly,
    With that rare meekness, born of gentleness,
Women whose lives are pure and clean and holy,
    The women whom all little children bless.
Brave, earnest women, helpful to each other,
    With finest scorn for all things low and mean.
Women who hold the names of wife and mother,
    Far nobler than the title of a Queen.

O these are they who...

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

What We Need

What does our country need?    No armies standing
    With sabres gleaming ready for the fight;
Not increased navies, skilful and commanding,
    To bound the waters with an iron might;
Not haughty men with glutted purses trying
    To purchase souls, and keep the power of place;
Not jewelled dolls with one another vying
    For palms of beauty, elegance, and grace.

But we want women, strong of soul, yet lowly,
    With that rare meekness, born of gentleness;
Women whose lives are pure and clean and holy,
    The women whom all little children bless;
Brave, earnest women, helpful to each other,
    With finest scorn for all things low and mean;
Women who hold the names of wife and mother
    Far nobler than the title of a queen.

Oh! these are they ...

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

The Forecast

It may be that I dreamed a dream; it may be that I saw
The forecast of a time to come by some supernal law.

I seemed to dwell in this same world, and in this modern time;
Yet nowhere was there sight or sound of poverty or crime.
All strife had ceased; men were disarmed; and quiet Peace had made
A thousand avenues for toil, in place of War's grim trade.
From east to west, from north to south where highways smooth and broad
Tied State to State, the waste lands bloomed, like garden spots of God.
There were no beggars in the streets; there were no unemployed,
For each man owned his plot of ground, and laboured and enjoyed.
Sweet children grew like garden flowers; all strong and fair to see;
And when I marvelled at the sight, thus spake a Voice to me:
'All Motherhood is now an a...

Ella Wheeler Wilcox