The Captive

My lady is robed for the ball to-night,
    All in a shimmer and silken sheen.
She glides down the stairs like a thing of light,
    The ballroom's beautiful queen.

Priceless gems on her bosom glow -
    Half hid by laces a queen might wear.
Robed is she, as befits, you know,
    The wife of a millionaire.

Gliding along at her liege lord's side,
    Out-shining all in that company,
Into the mind of the old man's bride
    There creeps a curious simile.

She thinks how once in the Long Ago,
    A beautiful captive, all aflame
With jewels that weighed her down like woe,
    Close in the wake of her captor came.

All day long in that mocking plight,
    She followed him in a dumb despair;
And the people thought her a goodly sight,
    Decked in her jewels rare.

And now at her lawful master's side,
    With a pain in her heart, as great as then
(So thinks this old man's beautiful bride),
    Zenobia walks again.

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

Occupation

Ella Wheeler Wilcox, Simple Poetry

A Pin

Ella Wheeler Wilcox, Simple Poetry

The Trip To Mars

Ella Wheeler Wilcox, Simple Poetry

The Younger Born

Ella Wheeler Wilcox, Simple Poetry

English

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The Bridal Eve

I stand in the blaze of the candle rays,
    While my merry maidens three
Arrange each tress, and loop my dress,
    And render me fair to see.
But oh! for the eyes that never again
    Will smile like the stars on me.

I sweep down the stair, a bride most fair,
    And some one takes my hand.
I am numb and cold, but the lie is told,
    I smile and my lord is bland.
But oh! for a sight of my rover wild,
    Who wanders abroad in the land.

I am queen of the ball and the festal hall;
    I have beauty and youth and gold,
Men bow at the shrine of this lord of mine -
    Lord of his sums untold.
But oh! to be off in the wilds to-night
    With my lover brave and bold.

I dream a dream while the candles gleam,
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Ella Wheeler Wilcox

A Moorish Maid

Above her veil a shrouded Moorish maid
    Showed melting eyes, as limpid as a lake;
A brow untouched by care; a band of jetty hair,
    And nothing more.    The all-concealing haik
Fell to her high arched instep.    At her side
    An old duenna walked; her withered face
    Half covered only, since no lingering grace
Bespoke the beauty once her master's pride.

Above her veil, the Moorish maid beheld
    The modern world, in Paris-decked Algiers;
Saw happy lad and lass, in love's contentment pass,
    Or in sweet wholesome friendship, free from fears.
She saw fair matrons, walking arm-in-arm
    With life-long lovers, time-endeared, and then
    She saw the ardent look in eyes of men,
And thrilled and trembled with a vague alarm.

Above her veil sh...

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

At The Bridal

Oh! but the bride was lovely,
    Oh! but the scene was bright,
And why was the bridegroom's face as pale
    As his lady's robe of white?

Did you not see beside him
    A guest unasked, unbid?
Who came up the aisle with silent feet
    And gazed at him? he did!

He saw her eyes upon him,
    He felt her icy breath;
And under the bride's warm clinging hand
    There crept the touch of death.

And above the low responses
    There fell upon his ear
A voice forbidding the nuptial banns;
    But no one else could hear.

And when the ring was given,
    And when the prayer was said,
He knew, as he led his bride away,
    That he was not truly wed.

And while they sat at the banquet,
    And mirth flowed like the w...

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

At The Hop

'Tis time to dress.    Dost hear the music surging
    Like sobbing waves that roll up from the sea?
Yes, yes, I hear -I yield -no need of urging;
    I know your wishes, -send Lisette to me.

I hate the ballroom; hate its gilded pleasure;
    I hate the crowd within it, well you know;
But what of that?    I am your lawful treasure -
    And when you would display me I must go.

You bought me with a mother's pain and trouble.
    I've been a great expense to you alway.
And now, if you can sell me, and get double
    The sum I cost -why, what have I to say?

You've done your duty: kept me in the fashion,
    And shown me off at every stylish place.
'Twas not your fault I had a heart of passion;
    'Twas not your fault I ever saw his face.

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

The Betrothal

There was a little pause between the dances;
    Without, somewhere, a tinkling fountain played.
The dusky path was lit by ardent glances
    As forth they fared, a lover and a maid.
He chose a nook, from curious eyes well hidden -
    All redolent with sweet midsummer charm,
And by the great primeval instinct bidden,
    He drew her in the shelter of his arm.
The words that long deep in his heart had trembled
Found sudden utterance; she at first dissembled,
    Refused her lips, and half withdrew her hand,
Then murmured "Yes," and yielded, woman fashion,
Her virgin mouth to young love's kiss of passion.

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Transformation

She waited in a rose-hued room;
    A wanton-hearted creature she,
    But beautiful and bright to see
As some great orchid just in bloom.

Upon wide cushions stretched at ease
    She lolled in garments filmy fine,
    Which but enhanced each rounded line;
A living picture, framed to please.

A bold electric eye of light
    Leered through its ruddy screen of lace
    And feasted on her form and face
As some wine-crimsoned roué might.

From wall and niche, nude nymph beguiled
    Fair goddesses of world-wide fame,
    But Psyche's self was put to shame
By one who from the cushions smiled.

Exotic blossoms from a vase
    Their sweet narcotic breath exhaled;
    The lights, the objects round her paled -
She lost the sense of ...

Ella Wheeler Wilcox