Words And Thoughts

He said as he sat in her theatre box
Between the acts, "What beastly weather!
How like a parrot the lover talks -
And the lady is tame, and the villain stalks -
I hope they finally die together."

He thought - "You are fair as the dawn's first ray;
I know the angels keep guard above you.
And so I chatter of weather, and play,
While all the time I am mad to say,
I love you, love you, love you."

He said -    "The season is almost run;
How glad we are, when the whirl is over!
For the toil of pleasure is more than its fun,
And what is it all, when all is done,
But the stick of a rocket that has descended?"

He thought - "Oh God! to be off somewhere
Afar with you, from this scene of fashion;
To know you were mine, and to have you care,
And to lose myself in the crimson snare
Of your lips, in a kiss of passion."

He said - "You are going abroad, no doubt,
This land of Liberty coldly scorning.
I too shall journey a bit about,
From Wall Street up by the L. Road out
To Harlem, and down each morning."

He thought - "It must follow on land or sea,
This pent-up, passionate, dumb devotion,
Till the cry of a rapture that may not be
Shall reach your heart from the heart of me
And stir you with strange emotion."

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

The Plough

Ella Wheeler Wilcox, Simple Poetry

The Times

Ella Wheeler Wilcox, Simple Poetry

When My Sweet Lady Sings

Ella Wheeler Wilcox, Simple Poetry

Assertion

Ella Wheeler Wilcox, Simple Poetry

English

Suggested Poems

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Life And I

Life and I are lovers, straying
    Arm in arm along:
Often like two children Maying,
    Full of mirth and song,

Life plucks all the blooming hours
    Growing by the way;
Binds them on my brow like flowers,
    Calls me Queen of May.

Then again, in rainy weather,
    We sit vis-a-vis,
Planning work we'll do together
    In the years to be.

Sometimes Life denies me blisses,
    And I frown or pout;
But we make it up with kisses
    Ere the day is out.

Woman-like, I sometimes grieve him,
    Try his trust and faith,
Saying I shall one day leave him
    For his rival, Death.

Then he always grows more zealous,
    Tender, and more true;
Loves the more for being jealous,
    As all lovers do.
<...

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Life And I.

Life and I are lovers, straying
    Arm in arm along:
Often like two children Maying,
    Full of mirth and song.

Life plucks all the blooming hours
    Growing by the way;
Binds them on my brow like flowers;
    Calls me Queen of May.

Then again, in rainy weather,
    We sit vis-a-vis,
Planning work we'll do together
    In the years to be.

Sometimes Life denies me blisses,
    And I frown or pout;
But we make it up with kisses
    Ere the day is out.

Woman-like, I sometimes grieve him,
    Try his trust and faith,
Saying I shall one day leave him
    For his rival Death.

Then he always grows more zealous,
    Tender, and more true;
Loves the more for being jealous,
    As all lovers do.

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Confession

I


How shall a maid make answer to a man
Who summons her, by love's supreme decree,
To open her whole heart, that he may see
The intricate strange ways that love began.
So many streams from that great fountain ran
To feed the river that now rushes free,
So deep the heart, so full of mystery;
How shall a maid make answer to a man?

If I turn back each leaflet of my heart,
And let your eyes scan all the records there,
Of dreams of love that came before I KNEW,
Though in those dreams you had no place or part,
Yet, know that each emotion was a stair
Which led my ripening womanhood to YOU.



II


Nay, I was not insensate till you came;
I know man likes to think a woman clay,
Devoid of feeling till the warming ray<...

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Ad Finem.

        On the white throat of the' useless passion
    That scorched my soul with its burning breath
        I clutched my fingers in murderous fashion,
    And gathered them close in a grip of death;
        For why should I fan, or feed with fuel,
    A love that showed me but blank despair?
        So my hold was firm, and my grasp was cruel -
    I meant to strangle it then and there!

        I thought it was dead. But with no warning,
    It rose from its grave last night, and came
        And stood by my bed till the early morning,
    And over and over it spoke your name.
        Its throat was red where my hands had held it;
    It burned my brow with its scorching breath;
        And I said, the moment my eyes beheld it,
    "A love like this can kn...

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

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