Three Women

    My love is young, so young;
        Young is her cheek, and her throat,
    And life is a song to be sung
        With love the word for each note.

    Young is her cheek and her throat;
        Her eyes have the smile o' May.
    And love is the word for each note
        In the song of my life to-day.

    Her eyes have the smile o' May;
        Her heart is the heart of a dove,
    And the song of my life to-day
        Is love, beautiful love.

    Her heart is the heart of a dove,
        Ah, would it but fly to my breast
    Where lone, beautiful love,
        Has made it a downy nest.

    Ah, would she but fly to my breast,
        My love who is young, so young;
    I have made her a downy nest
        And life is a song to be sung.

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

Under The Sheet

Ella Wheeler Wilcox, Simple Poetry

Sympathy

Ella Wheeler Wilcox, Simple Poetry

An Inspiration

Ella Wheeler Wilcox, Simple Poetry

A Girl's Autumn Reverie

Ella Wheeler Wilcox, Simple Poetry

English

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Unsatisfied

The bird flies home to its young;
The flower folds its leaves about an opening bud;
And in my neighbour's house there is the cry of a child.
I close my window that I need not hear.

She is mine, and she is very beautiful:
And in her heart there is no evil thought.
There is even love in her heart -
Love of life, love of joy, love of this fair world,
And love of me (or love of my love for her);
Yet she will never consent to bear me a child.
And when I speak of it she weeps,
Always she weeps, saying:
'Do I not bring joy enough into your life?
Are you not satisfied with me and my love,
As I am satisfied with you?
Never would I urge you to some great peril
To please my whim; yet ever so you urge me,
Urge me to risk my happiness - yea, life itself -
S...

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

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

An Old Heart

How young I am!    Ah! heaven, this curse of youth
    Doth mock me from my mirror with great eyes,
And pulsing veins repeat the unwelcome truth,
    That I must live, though hope within me dies.

So young, and yet I have had all of life.
    Why, men have lived to see a hundred years,
Who have not known the rapture, joy, and strife
    Of my brief youth, its passion and its tears.

Oh! what are years?    A ripe three score and ten
    Hold often less of life, in its best sense,
Than just a twelvemonth lived by other men,
    Whose high-strung souls are ardent and intense.

But having seen all depths and scaled all heights,
    Having a heart love thrilled, and sorrow wrung,
Knowing all pains, all pleasures, all delights,
    Now I would die -but can...

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

When My Sweet Lady Sings

When she, my lady, smiles,
I feel as one who, lost in darksome wilds,
Sees suddenly the sun in middle sky
Shining upon him like a great glad eye.
    When my sweet lady smiles.

When she, my lady laughs,
I feel as one who some elixir quaffs;
Some nameless nectar, made of wines of suns,
And through my veins a subtle iveresse runs.
    When my sweet lady laughs.

And when my lady talks,
I am as one who by a brooklet walks,
Some sweet-tongued brooklet, which the whole long day,
Holds converse with the birds along the way.
    When my loved lady talks.

And when my lady sings,
Oh then I hear the beat of silver wings;
All that is earthly from beneath me slips,
And in the liquid cadence of her lips
I float, so near the Infinite, I seem<...

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

Love And The Seasons

SPRING

A sudden softness in the wind;
    A glint of song, a-wing;
A fragrant sound that trails behind,
    And joy in everything.

A sudden flush upon the cheek,
    The teardrop quick to start;
A hope too delicate to speak,
    And heaven within the heart.

SUMMER

A riotous dawn and the sea's great wonder;
    The red, red heart of a rose uncurled;
And beauty tearing her veil asunder,
    In sight of a swooning world.

A call of the soul, and the senses blended;
    The Springtime lost in the glow of the sun,
And two lives rushing, as God intended,
    To meet and mingle as one.

AUTUMN

The world is out in gala dress;
    And yet it is not gay.
Its splendour hides a loneliness
    For someth...

Ella Wheeler Wilcox