Shadows

I am sorry in the gladness
    Of the joys that crown my days,
For the souls that sit in sadness
    Or walk uninviting ways.

On the radiance of my labour
    That a loving fate bestowed,
Falls the shadow of my neighbour,
    Crushed beneath a thankless load.

As the canticle of pleasure
    From my lovelit altar rolls,
There is one discordant measure,
    As I think of homeless souls.

And I know that grim old story,
    Preached from pulpits, is not so,
For no God could sit in glory
    And see sinners writhe below.

In that great eternal Centre
    Where all human life has birth,
Boundless love and pity enter
    And flow downward to the earth.

And all souls in sin or sorrow
    Are but passing through the night,
And I know on some to-morrow
    God will love them into light.

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

The Gossips

Ella Wheeler Wilcox, Simple Poetry

March

Ella Wheeler Wilcox, Simple Poetry

The Voice

Ella Wheeler Wilcox, Simple Poetry

The Story.

Ella Wheeler Wilcox, Simple Poetry

English

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Explore a curated selection of verses that share themes, styles, and emotional resonance with the poem you've just read.

Through Dim Eyes

Is it the world, or my eyes, that are sadder?
I see not the grace that I used to see
In the meadow-brook whose song was so glad, or
In the boughs of the willow tree.
The brook runs slower - its song seems lower
And not the song that it sang of old;
And the tree I admired looks weary and tired
Of the changeless story of heat and cold.

When the sun goes up, and the stars go under,
In that supreme hour of the breaking day,
Is it my eyes, or the dawn, I wonder,
That finds less of the gold, and more of the gray
I see not the splendour, the tints so tender,
The rose-hued glory I used to see;
And I often borrow a vague half-sorrow
That another morning has dawned for me.

When the royal smile of that welcome comer
Beams on the meadow and burns in the s...

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Compensations

I

Blind

When first the shadows fell, like prison bars,
And darkness spread before me, like a pall,
I cried out for the sun, the earth, the stars,
And beat the air, as madmen beat a wall,
Till, impotent, and broken with despair,
I turned my vision inward.    Lo, a spark -
A light - a torch; and all my world grew bright;
For God's dear eyes were shining through the dark.
Then, bringing to me gifts of recompense,
Came keener hearing, finer taste, and touch;
And that oft unappreciated sense,
Which finds sweet odours, and proclaims them such;
And not until my mortal eyes were blind
Did I perceive how kind the world, how kind.

II

Deaf

I can recall a time, when on mine ears
There fell chaotic sounds of earthly life,
S...

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

The Suicide

Vast was the wealth I carried in life's pack -
    Youth, health, ambition, hope and trust; but Time
    And Fate, those robbers fit for any crime,
Stole all, and left me but the empty sack.
Before me lay a long and lonely track
    Of darkling hills and barren steeps to climb;
    Behind me lay in shadows the sublime
Lost lands of Love's delight.    Alack!    Alack!

Unwearied, and with springing steps elate,
    I had conveyed my wealth along the road.
    The empty sack proved now a heavier load:
I was borne down beneath its worthless weight.
I stumbled on, and knocked at Death's dark gate.
    There was no answer.    Stung by sorrow's goad
    I forced my way into that grim abode,
And laughed, and flung Life's empty sack to Fate.

Unknown ...

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Spectres

How terrible these nights are when alone
    With our scarred hearts, we sit in solitude,
And some old sorrow, to the world unknown,
    Does suddenly with silent steps intrude.

After the guests departed, and the light
    Burned dimly in my room, there came to me,
As noiselessly as shadows of the night,
    The spectre of a woe that used to be.

Out of the gruesome darkness and the gloom
    I saw it peering; and, in still despair,
I watched it gliding swift across the room,
    Until it came and stood beside my chair.

Why, need I tell thee what its shape or name?
    Thou hast thy secret hidden from the light:
And be it sin or sorrow, woe or shame,
    Thou dost not like to meet it in the night.

And yet it comes.    As certainly as dea...

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Warp And Woof

Through the sunshine, and through the rain
    Of these changing days of mist and splendour,
I see the face of a year-old pain
    Looking at me with a smile half tender.

With a smile half tender, and yet all sad,
    Into each hour of the mild September
It comes, and finding my life grown glad
    Looks down in my eyes, and says 'Remember.'

Says 'Remember,' and points behind
    To days of sorrow, and tear-wet lashes;
When joy lay dead and hope was blind,
    And nothing was left but dust and ashes.

Dust and ashes and vain regret,
    Flames fanned out, and the embers falling.
But the sun of the saddest day must set,
    And hope wakes ever with Springtime's calling.

With Springtime's calling the pulses thrill;
    And the heart i...

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

The Crimes Of Peace

Musing upon the tragedies of earth,
Of each new horror which each hour gives birth,
Of sins that scar and cruelties that blight
Life's little season, meant for man's delight,
Methought those monstrous and repellent crimes
Which hate engenders in war-heated times,
To God's great heart bring not so much despair
As other sins which flourish everywhere
And in all times - bold sins, bare-faced and proud,
Unchecked by college, and by Church allowed,
Lifting their lusty heads like ugly weeds
Above wise precepts and religious creeds,
And growing rank in prosperous days of peace.
Think you the evils of this world would cease
With war's cessation?
    If God's eyes know tears,
Methinks He weeps more for the wasted years
And the lost meaning of this earthly life -

Ella Wheeler Wilcox