The Law

When the great universe was wrought
To might and majesty from naught,
The all creative force was -
        THOUGHT.

That force is thine.    Though desolate
The way may seem, command thy fate.
Send forth thy thought -
        Create - CREATE!

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

Artist's Life

Ella Wheeler Wilcox, Simple Poetry

You Never Can Tell

Ella Wheeler Wilcox, Simple Poetry

Passing The Buck

Ella Wheeler Wilcox, Simple Poetry

The Beautiful Blue Danube.

Ella Wheeler Wilcox, Simple Poetry

English

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The Law

The sun may be clouded, yet ever the sun
Will sweep on its course till the cycle is run.
And when into chaos the systems are hurled,
Again shall the Builder reshape a new world.

Your path may be clouded, uncertain your goal;
Move on, for the orbit is fixed for your soul.
And though it may lead into darkness of night,
The torch of the Builder shall give it new light.

You were, and you will be:    know this while you are.
Your spirit has travelled both long and afar.
It came from the Source, to the Source it returns;
The spark that was lighted, eternally burns.

It slept in the jewel, it leaped in the wave,
It roamed in the forest, it rose in the grave,
It took on strange garbs for long aeons of years,
And now in the soul of yourself it appears.

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Creation.

        The impulse of all love is to create.
    God was so full of love, in his embrace
    He clasped the empty nothingness of space,
        And low! the solar system! High in state
        The mighty sun sat, so supreme and great
    With this same essence, one smile of its face
    Brought myriad forms of life forth; race on race,
        From insects up to men.

    Through love, not hate,
        All that is grand in nature or in art
    Sprang into being. He who would build sublime
    And lasting works, to stand the test of time,
        Must inspiration draw from his full heart.
    And he who loveth widely, well, and much,
    The secret holds of the true master touch.

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

The Law

The tide of love swells in me with such force,
    It sweeps away all hate and all distrust.
As eddying straws and particles of dust
    Are lost by some swift river in its course.

So much I love my friends, my life, my art,
    Each shadow flies; the light dispels the gloom.
Love is so fair, I find I have no room
    For anything less worthy in my heart.

Love is a germ which we can cultivate -
    To grace and perfume sweeter than the rose,
Or leave neglected while our heart soil grows
    Rank with that vile and poison thistle, hate.

Love is a joyous thrush, that one can teach
    To sing sweet lute-like songs which all may hear.
Or we can silence him and tune the ear
    To caw of crows, or to the vulture's screech.

Love is a feast; ...

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Nothing Remains.

Nothing remains of unrecorded ages
    That lie in the silent cemetery of time;
Their wisdom may have shamed our wisest sages,
    Their glory may have been indeed sublime.
How weak do seem our strivings after power,
    How poor the grandest efforts of our brains,
If out of all we are, in one short hour
        Nothing remains.

Nothing remains but the Eternal Spaces,
    Time and decay uproot the forest trees.
Even the mighty mountains leave their places,
    And sink their haughty heads beneath strange seas;
The great earth writhes in some convulsive spasm
    And turns the proudest cities into plains.
The level sea becomes a yawning chasm -
        Nothing remains.

Nothing remains but the Eternal Forces,
    The sad seas cease complaining a...

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Nothing Remains

Nothing remains of unrecorded ages
    That lie in the silent cemetery time;
Their wisdom may have shamed our wisest sages,
    Their glory may have been indeed sublime.
How weak do seem our strivings after power,
    How poor the grandest efforts of our brains,
If out of all we are, in one short hour
        Nothing remains.

Nothing remains but the Eternal Spaces,
    Time and decay uproot the forest trees.
Even the mighty mountains leave their places,
    And sink their haughty heads beneath strange seas
The great earth writhes in some convulsive spasms
    And turns the proudest cities into plains.
The level sea becomes a yawning chasm -
    Nothing remains.

Nothing remains but the Eternal Forces,
    The sad seas cease complaining and grow...

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Action

For ever stars are winging
    Their swift and endless race;
For ever suns are swinging
    Their mighty globes through space.
Since by his law required
To join God's spheres inspired,
The earth has never tired,
    But whirled and whirled and whirled.
For ever streams are flowing,
For ever seeds are growing,
Alway is Nature showing
    That Action rules the world.

And since by God requested
    To BE, the glorious light
Has never paused or rested,
    But travelled day and night.
Yet pigmy man, unseeing
The purpose of his being,
Demands escape and freeing
    From universal force.
But law is law for ever,
And like a mighty lever
It thrusts him tow'rd endeavour,
    And speeds him on his course.

Ella Wheeler Wilcox