The New Love

I thought my heart was death chilled,
    I thought its fires were cold;
But the new love, the new love,
    It warmeth like the old.

I thought its rooms were shadowed
    With the gloom of endless night;
But the new love, the new love,
    It fills them full of light.

I thought the chambers empty,
    And proclaimed it unto men;
But the new love, the new love,
    It peoples them again.

I thought its halls were silent,
    And hushed the whole day long;
But the new love, the new love,
    It fills them full of song.

Then here is to the new love,
    Let who will sing the old;
The new love, the new love,
    'Tis more than fame or gold.

For it gives us joy for sorrow,
    And it gives us warmth for cold;
Oh! the new love, the new love,
    'Tis better than the old.

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

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Ella Wheeler Wilcox, Simple Poetry

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Ella Wheeler Wilcox, Simple Poetry

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Ella Wheeler Wilcox, Simple Poetry

Reflection

Ella Wheeler Wilcox, Simple Poetry

English

Suggested Poems

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

New And Old.

        I and new love, in all its living bloom,
    Sat vis-a-vis, while tender twilight hours
    Went softly by us, treading as on flowers.
        Then suddenly I saw within the room
        The old love, long since lying in its tomb.
    It dropped the cerecloth from its fleshless face
    And smiled on me, with a remembered grace
        That, like the noontide, lit the gloaming's gloom.

        Upon its shroud there hung the grave's green mould,
    About it hung the odor of the dead;
    Yet from its cavernous eyes such light was shed
        That all my life seemed gilded, as with gold;
    Unto the trembling new love '"Go," I said
        "I do not need thee, for I have the old."

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Old And New.

        Long have the poets vaunted, in their lays,
    Old times, old loves, old friendship, and old wine.
        Why should the old monopolize all praise?
    Then let the new claim mine.

        Give me strong new friends when the old prove weak
    Or fail me in my darkest hour of need;
        Why perish with the ship that springs a leak
    Or lean upon a reed?

        Give me new love, warm, palpitating, sweet,
    When all the grace and beauty leave the old;
        When like a rose it withers at my feet,
    Or like a hearth grows cold.

        Give me new times, bright with a prosperous cheer,
    In place of old, tear-blotted, burdened days;
        I hold a sunlit present far more dear,
    And worthy of my praise.

        ...

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Best

In the gruesome night and the wintry weather,
    I watched two dear friends die,
And I buried them both in one grave together.
    Oh! who is so sad as I?
For the old love, and the old year,
    They both have passed away;
And I never can find the old cheer
    Come what will or may.

I heard the bell in the tall church steeple
    Clang out a joyful strain.
And I thought, 'Of all the great world's people,
    I have the bitterest pain.'
For the old year was a good year,
    And the old love was sweet;
And how could my heart hold any cheer
    When both lay dead at my feet.

Life may smile and the skies may brighten,
    Winter will pass with its snows;
Grief will wane and the burden lighten -
    And June will come with the rose.

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Husband And Wife

Reach out your arms, and hold me close and fast,
Tell me you have no memories of your past
That mar this love of ours, so great, so vast.

Some truths are cheapened when too oft averred -
Does not the deed speak louder than the word?
(Dear Christ! that old dream woke again and stirred.)

As you love me, you never loved before?
Though oft you say it - say it yet once more;
My heart is jealous of those days of yore.

Sweet wife, dear comrade, mother of my child,
My life is yours, by memory undefiled.
(It stirs again, that passion brief and wild.)

You never knew such happy hours as this,
We two alone, our hearts surcharged with bliss,
Nor other kisses sweet as my own kiss?

I was the thirsty field, long parched wit...

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Last Love

The first flower of the spring is not so fair
Or bright as one the ripe midsummer brings.
The first faint note the forest warbler sings
Is not as rich with feeling, or so rare
As when, full master of his art, the air
Drowns in the liquid sea of song he flings
Like silver spray from beak, and breast, and wings.
The artist's earliest effort, wrought with care,
The bard's first ballad, written in his tears,
Set by his later toil, seems poor and tame,
And into nothing dwindles at the test.
So with the passions of maturer years.
Let those who will demand the first fond flame,
Give me the heart's LAST LOVE, for that is best.

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Change.

        Changed? Yes, I will confess it - I have changed.
    I do not love in the old fond way.
        I am your friend still - time has not estranged
    One kindly feeling of that vanished day.

        But the bright glamour which made life a dream,
    The rapture of that time, its sweet content,
        Like visions of a sleeper's brain they seem -
    And yet I cannot tell you how they went.

        Why do you gaze with such accusing eyes
    Upon me, dear? Is it so very strange
        That hearts, like all things underneath God's skies
    Should sometimes feel the influence of change?

        The birds, the flowers, the foliage of the trees,
    The stars which seem so fixed and so sublime,
        Vast continents and the eternal seas -
...

Ella Wheeler Wilcox