Which

We are both of us sad at heart,
    But I wonder who can say
Which has the harder part,
    Or the bitterer grief to-day.

You grieve for a love that was lost
    Before it had reached its prime;
I sit here and count the cost
    Of a love that has lived its time.

Your blossom was plucked in its May,
    In its dawning beauty and pride;
Mine lived till the August day,
    And reached fruition and died.

You pressed its leaves in a book,
    And you weep sweet tears o'er them.
Dry eyed I sit and look
    On a withered and broken stem.

And now that all is told,
    Which is the sadder, pray,
To give up your dream with its gold,
    Or to see it fade into grey?

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

Only A Slight Flirtation

Ella Wheeler Wilcox, Simple Poetry

My Heaven

Ella Wheeler Wilcox, Simple Poetry

A Plea To Peace

Ella Wheeler Wilcox, Simple Poetry

The Times

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.

Desolation.

        I think that the bitterest sorrow or pain
    Of love unrequited, or cold death's woe,
    Is sweet compared to that hour when we know
        That some grand passion is on the wane;

        When we see that the glory and glow and grace
    Which lent a splendor to night and day
    Are surely fading, and showing the gray
        And dull groundwork of the commonplace;

        When fond expressions on dull ears fall,
    When the hands clasp calmly without one thrill,
    When we cannot muster by force of will
        The old emotions that came at call;

        When the dream has vanished we fain would keep,
    When the heart, like a watch, runs out of gear,
    And all the savor goes out of the year,
        Oh, then is the time - if we ...

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

Worn Out

I saw a young heart in the grasp of pain;
    With bruised breast, and broken, bleeding wing
Shipwrecked on hopeless love's tempestuous main,
    Lay the poor tortured thing.

It pulsed with all the anguish of despair;
    It ached with all a fond heart's awful power;
Yet I, who stood unhurt above it there,
    Envied its lot that hour.

I, who have wasted all the sacred, deep
    Emotions of my soul in spendthrift fashion,
Until no sorrow now can make me weep -
    No joy stir me with passion.

I, who have scattered here and there the gold
    Of my heart's store, until I spent the whole;
Yet unto each so little gave to hold,
    That I enriched no soul.

I, who have sold the birthright of sweet tears,
    And no more feel a thrill in...

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Through Dim Eyes

Is it the world, or my eyes, that are sadder?
I see not the grace that I used to see
In the meadow-brook whose song was so glad, or
In the boughs of the willow tree.
The brook runs slower - its song seems lower
And not the song that it sang of old;
And the tree I admired looks weary and tired
Of the changeless story of heat and cold.

When the sun goes up, and the stars go under,
In that supreme hour of the breaking day,
Is it my eyes, or the dawn, I wonder,
That finds less of the gold, and more of the gray
I see not the splendour, the tints so tender,
The rose-hued glory I used to see;
And I often borrow a vague half-sorrow
That another morning has dawned for me.

When the royal smile of that welcome comer
Beams on the meadow and burns in the s...

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

La Mort D'Amour.

When was it that love died? We were so fond,
    So very fond, a little while ago.
    With leaping pulses, and blood all aglow,
We dreamed about a sweeter life beyond,

When we should dwell together as one heart,
    And scarce could wait that happy time to come.
    Now side by side we sit with lips quite dumb,
And feel ourselves a thousand miles apart.

How was it that love died! I do not know.
    I only know that all its grace untold
    Has faded into gray! I miss the gold
From our dull skies; but did not see it go.

Why should love die? We prized it, I am sure;
    We thought of nothing else when it was ours;
    We cherished it in smiling, sunlit bowers;
It was our all; why could it not endure?

Alas, we know not how, or when or why...

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

When Love Is Lost

When love is lost, the day sets towards the night,
Albeit the morning sun may still be bright,
And not one cloud-ship sails across the sky.
Yet from the places where it used to lie
Gone is the lustrous glory of the light.

No splendour rests in any mountain height,
No scene spreads fair and beauteous to the sight;
All, all seems dull and dreary to the eye
    When love is lost.

Love lends to life its grandeur and its might;
Love goes, and leaves behind it gloom and blight;
Like ghosts of time the pallid hours drag by,
And grief's one happy thought is that we die.
Ah, what can recompense us for its flight
    When love is lost?

Ella Wheeler Wilcox