The Little Lady Of The Bullock Cart

Now is the time when India is gay
With wedding parties; and the radiant throngs
Seem like a scattered rainbow taking part
In human pleasures.    Dressed in bright array,
They fling upon the bride their wreaths of songs -
The Little Lady of the Bullock Cart.

Here is the temple ready for the rite:
The large-eyed bullocks halt; and waiting arms
Lift down the bride.    All India's curious art
Speaks in the gems with which she is bedight.
And in the robes which hide her sweet alarms -
The Little Lady of the Bullock Cart.

This is her day of days:    her splendid hour
When joy is hers, though love is all unknown.
It has not dawned upon her childish heart.
But human triumph, in a temporal power,
Has crowned her queen upon a one-day throne -
The Little Lady of the Bullock Cart.

Ah, Little Lady!    What will be your fate?
So long, so long, the outward-reaching years:
So brief the joy of this elusive part;
So frail the shoulders for the loads that wait:
So bitter salt the virgin widow's tears -
O Little Lady of the Bullock cart.

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

Progress

Ella Wheeler Wilcox, Simple Poetry

Five Kisses

Ella Wheeler Wilcox, Simple Poetry

Sorrow's Uses

Ella Wheeler Wilcox, Simple Poetry

Concentration

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

The Little Go-Cart

It was long, long ago that a soul like a flower
Unfolded, and blossomed, and passed in an hour.
It was long, long ago; and the memory seems
Like the pleasures and sorrows that come in our dreams.

The kind years have crowned me with many a joy
Since the going away of my wee little boy;
Each one as it passed me has stooped with a kiss,
And left some delight - knowing one thing I miss.

But when in the park or the street, all elate
A baby I see in his carriage of state,
As proud as a king, in his little go-cart -
I feel all the mother-love stir in my heart!

And I seem to be back in that long-vanished May;
And the baby, who came but to hurry away
In the little white hearse, is not dead, but alive,
And out in his little go-cart for a drive.

I...

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

The Bride

Beat on the Tom-toms, and scatter the flowers,
Jasmin, Hibiscus, vermillion and white,
This is the day, and the Hour of Hours,
Bring forth the Bride for her Lover's delight.
Maidens no more, as a maiden shall claim her,
Near, in his Mystery, draweth Desire.
Who, if she waver a moment, shall blame her?
She is a flower, and love is a fire.
        Choti Tinchaurya syani hogayi!

Give her the anklets, the rings and the necklace,
Darken her eyelids with delicate Art,
Heighten the beauty, so youthful and fleckless,
By the Gods favoured, oh, Bridegroom thou art!
Twine in thy fingers her fingers so slender,
Circle together the Mystical Fire,
Bridegroom, - a whisper - be gentle and tender,
Choti Tinchaurya knows not desire.
        Abhi Tinchaurya syani hoga...

Adela Florence Cory Nicolson

Five Kisses

I - THE MOTHER'S KISS

Love breathed a secret to her listening heart,
    And said "Be silent."    Though she guarded it,
And dwelt as one within a world apart,
    Yet sun and star seemed by that secret lit.
And where she passed, each whispering wind ablow,
    And every little blossom in the sod,
Called joyously to her, "We know, we know,
    For are we not the intimates of God?"
Life grew so radiant, and so opulent,
    That when her fragile body and her brain
By mortal throes of agony were rent,
    She felt a curious rapture in her pain.
Then, after anguish, came the supreme bliss -
They brought the little baby, for her kiss!

II - THE BETROTHAL

There was a little pause between the dances;
    Without, somewhere, a tinkling fountain p...

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Marriage Thoughts: by Morsellin Khan

Bridegroom
I give you my house and my lands, all golden with harvest;
My sword, my shield, and my jewels, the spoils of my strife,
My strength and my dreams, and aught I have gathered of glory,
And to-night - to-night, I shall give you my very life.

Bride
I may not raise my eyes, O my Lord, towards you,
And I may not speak: what matter? my voice would fail.
But through my dowacast lashes, feeling your beauty,
I shiver and burn with pleasure beneath my veil.

Younger Sisters
We throw sweet perfume upon her head,
And delicate flowers round her bed.
Ah, would that it were our turn to wed!

Mother
I see my daughter, vaguely, through my tears,
(Ah, lost caresses of my early years!)
I see the bridegroom, King of men i...

Adela Florence Cory Nicolson