The Common Lot.

        It is a common fate - a woman's lot -
    To waste on one the riches of her soul,
        Who takes the wealth she gives him, but cannot
    Repay the interest, and much less the whole.

        As I look up into your eyes and wait
    For some response to my fond gaze and touch,
        It seems to me there is no sadder fate
    Than to be doomed to loving overmuch.

        Are you not kind? Ah, yes, so very kind -
    So thoughtful of my comfort, and so true.
        Yes, yes, dear heart; but I, not being blind,
    Know that I am not loved as I love you.

        One tenderer word, a little longer kiss,
    Will fill my soul with music and with song;
        And if you seem abstracted, or I miss
    The heart-tone from your voice, my world goes wrong.

        And oftentimes you think me childish - weak -
    When at some thoughtless word the tears will start;
        You cannot understand how aught you speak
    Has power to stir the depths of my poor heart.

        I cannot help it, dear, - I wish I could,
    Or feign indifference where I now adore;
        For if I seemed to love you less you would,
    Manlike, I have no doubt, love me the more.

        'Tis a sad gift, that much applauded thing,
    A constant heart; for fact doth daily prove
        That constancy finds oft a cruel sting,
    While fickle natures win the deeper love.

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 Brave Highland Laddies

Ella Wheeler Wilcox, Simple Poetry

Let Me Lean Hard.

Ella Wheeler Wilcox, Simple Poetry

Why I Love Her

Ella Wheeler Wilcox, Simple Poetry

Success

Ella Wheeler Wilcox, Simple Poetry

English

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Her Love

The sands upon the ocean side
That change about with every tide,
And never true to one abide,
    A woman's love I liken to.

The summer zephyrs, light and vain,
That sing the same alluring strain
To every grass blade on the plain -
    A woman's love is nothing more.

The sunshine of an April day
That comes to warm you with its ray,
But while you smile has flown away -
    A woman's love is like to this.

God made poor woman with no heart,
But gave her skill, and tact, and art,
And so she lives, and plays her part.
    We must not blame, but pity her.

She leans to man - but just to hear
The praise he whispers in her ear;
Herself, not him, she holdeth dear -
    O fool! to be deceived by her.

To sate her selfish t...

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Her Love. (Excerpt From "Maurine")

    The sands upon the ocean side
    That change about with every tide,
    And never true to one abide,
        A woman's love I liken to.

    The summer zephyrs, light and vain,
    That sing the same alluring strain
    To every grass blade on the plain -
        A woman's love is nothing more.

    The sunshine of an April day
    That comes to warm you with its ray,
    But while you smile has flown away -
        A woman's love is like to this.

    God made poor woman with no heart,
    But gave her skill, and tact, and art,
    And so she lives, and plays her part.
        We must not blame, but pity her.

    She leans to man - but just to hear
    The praise he whispers in her ear,
    Herself, not him, she holdeth dea...

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

The Other

All alone with my heart to-night
    I sit, and wonder, and sigh.
What is she like, is she dark, or light,
This other woman who has the right
    To love him better than I?

We never have spoken her name, we two;
    There was no need somehow,
But she lives, and loves, and her heart is true;
From the very first this much I knew,
    So why should it hurt me now.

I fancy her tall, and I think her fair,
    Oh! fairer than I by half.
With sweet, calm eyes, and a wealth of hair,
And a heart as perfectly free from care
    As is her silvery laugh.

She loves rich jewels that flash in the light,
    And revels in costly lace,
And first in the morning, and last at night
She kisses one ring on her finger white;
    (How came those tears...

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

An Old Man To His Sleeping Young Bride

As when the old moon lighted by the tender
    And radiant crescent of the new is seen,
And for a moment's space suggests the splendor
    Of what in its full prime it once has been,
So on my waning years you cast the glory
    Of youth and pleasure, for a little hour;
And life again seems like an unread story,
    And joy and hope both stir me with their power.

Can blooming June be fond of bleak December?
    I dare not wait to hear my heart reply.
I will forget the question -and remember
    Alone the priceless feast spread for mine eye,
That radiant hair that flows across the pillows,
    Like shimmering sunbeams over drifts of snow;
Those heaving breasts, like undulating billows,
    Whose dangers or delights but Love can know.

That crimson mou...

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

A Woman's Love

So vast the tide of love within me surging,
    It overflows like some stupendous sea,
    The confines of the Present and To-be;
And 'gainst the Past's high wall I feel it urging,
    As it would cry, "Thou, too, shalt yield to me!"

All other loves my supreme love embodies;
    I would be she on whose soft bosom nursed
    Thy clinging infant lips to quench their thirst;
She who trod close to hidden worlds where God is,
    That she might have, and hold, and see thee first.

I would be she who stirred the vague, fond fancies
    Of thy still childish heart; who through bright days
    Went sporting with thee in the old-time plays,
And caught the sunlight of thy boyish glances
    In half-forgotten and long-buried Mays.

Forth to the end, and back t...

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Love's Supremacy

As yon great Sun in his supreme condition
    Absorbs small worlds and makes them all his own,
So does my love absorb each vain ambition,
    Each outside purpose which my life has known.
Stars cannot shine so near that vast orb'd splendour;
    They are content to feed his flames of fire:
And so my heart is satisfied to render
    Its strength, its all, to meet thy strong desire.

As in a forest when dead leaves are falling
    From all save some perennial green tree,
So one by one I find all pleasures palling
    That are not linked with or enjoyed by thee.
And all the homage that the world may proffer,
    I take as perfumed oils or incense sweet,
And think of it as one thing more to offer,
    And sacrifice to Love, at thy dear feet.

I love myse...

Ella Wheeler Wilcox