On Seeing 'The House Of Julia' At Herculaneum

Not great Vesuvius, in all his ire,
Nor all the centuries, could hide your shame.
There is the little window where you came,
With eyes that woke the demon of desire,
And lips like rose leaves, fashioned out of fire;
    And from the lava leaps the molten flame
    Of your old sins.    The walls cry out your name -
Your face seems rising from the funeral pyre.

There must have dwelt, within your fated town,
    Full many a virtuous dame, and noble wife
    Who made your beauty seem as star to sun;
How strange the centuries have handed down
    Your name, fair Julia, of immoral life,
    And left the others to oblivion.

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

England, Awake!

Ella Wheeler Wilcox, Simple Poetry

Her Last Letter

Ella Wheeler Wilcox, Simple Poetry

They Shall Not Win

Ella Wheeler Wilcox, Simple Poetry

The Little Go-Cart

Ella Wheeler Wilcox, Simple Poetry

English

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In Vita. LXXVI.

Sennuccio, I would have thee know the shame
That's dealt to me, and what a life is mine.
Even as of yore, I struggle, burn and pine.
Laura transports me, I am still the same.
All meekness here, all pride she there became,
Now harsh, now kind, now cruel, now benign;
Here honor clothed her, there a grace divine;
Now gentle, now disdainful of my flame.
Here sweetly did she sing; there sat awhile;
There she turned back, she lingered in this spot.
Here with her splendid eyes my heart she clove.
She uttered there a word, and here did smile.
Here she changed color. Ah, in such fond thought,
Holds me by day and night, our master Love.

Emma Lazarus

He That Looketh

Yea, she and I have broken God's command,
    And in His sight are branded with our shame.
    And yet I do not even know her name,
Nor ever in my life have touched her hand
Or brushed her garments.    But I chanced to stand
    Beside her in the throng!    A sweet, swift flame
    Shot from her flesh to mine -and hers the blame
Of willing looks that fed it; aye, that fanned
The glow within me to a hungry fire.
    There was an invitation in her eyes.
    Had she met mine with coldness or surprise,
I had not plunged on headlong in the mire
Of amorous thought.    The flame leaped high and higher;
    Her breath and mine pulsated into sighs,
    And soft glance melted into glance kiss-wise,
And in God's sight both yielded to desire.

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

A Waft Of Perfume

A waft of perfume from a bit of lace
    Moved lightly by a passing woman's hand;
And on the common street, a sensuous grace
    Shone suddenly from some lost time and land.

Tall structures changed to dome and parapet;
    The stern-faced Church an oracle became;
In sheltered alcoves marble busts were set;
    And on the wall frail Lais wrote her name.

Phryne before her judges stood at bay,
    Fearing the rigour of Athenian laws;
Till Hyperides tore her cloak away,
    And bade her splendid beauty plead its cause.

Great Alexander walking in the dusk,
    Dreamed of the hour when Greek with Greek should meet;
From Thais' window attar breathed, and musk:
    His footsteps went no farther down the street.

Faint and more faint the pungent ...

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Ad Finem.

        On the white throat of the' useless passion
    That scorched my soul with its burning breath
        I clutched my fingers in murderous fashion,
    And gathered them close in a grip of death;
        For why should I fan, or feed with fuel,
    A love that showed me but blank despair?
        So my hold was firm, and my grasp was cruel -
    I meant to strangle it then and there!

        I thought it was dead. But with no warning,
    It rose from its grave last night, and came
        And stood by my bed till the early morning,
    And over and over it spoke your name.
        Its throat was red where my hands had held it;
    It burned my brow with its scorching breath;
        And I said, the moment my eyes beheld it,
    "A love like this can kn...

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

False

False!    Good God, I am dreaming!
    No, no, it never can be -
You who are so true in seeming,
    You, false to your vows and me?
My wife and my fair boy's mother
    The star of my life - my queen -
To yield herself to another
    Like some light Magdalene!

Proofs! what are proofs - I defy them!
    They never can shake my trust;
If you look in my face and deny them
    I will trample them into the dust.
For whenever I read of the glory
    Of the realms of Paradise,
I sought for the truth of the story
    And found it in your sweet eyes.

Why, you are the shy young creature
    I wooed in her maiden grace;
There was purity in each feature,
    And my heaven I found in your face.
And, "not only married but mated,"
    I ...

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

A Woman's Hand

All day long there has haunted me
    A spectre out of my lost youth-land.
Because I happened last night to see
    A woman's beautiful snow-white hand.

Like part of a statue broken away,
    And carefully kept in a velvet case,
On the crimson rim of her box it lay;
    The folds of the curtain hid her face.

Years had drifted between us two,
    In another clime, in another land,
We had lived and parted, and yet I knew
    That cruelly beautiful perfect hand.

The ringless beauty of fingers fine,
    The sea-shell tint of their taper tips,
The sight of them stirred my blood like wine,
    Oh, to hold them again to my lips!

To feel their tender touch on my hair,
    Their mute caress, and their clinging hold;
Oh for the past tha...

Ella Wheeler Wilcox