Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Not Quite The Same

Not quite the same the springtime seems to me, Since that sad season when in separate ways Our paths diverged. There are no more such days As dawned for us in that last time

Impatience

How can I wait until you come to me? The once fleet mornings linger by the way; Their sunny smiles touched with malicious glee At my unrest, they seem to pause, and play Like

A March Snow

Let the old snow be covered with the new: The trampled snow, so soiled, and stained, and sodden. Let it be hidden wholly from our view By pure white flakes, all trackless and untrodden.

Inspiration

Not like a daring, bold, aggressive boy, Is inspiration, eager to pursue, But rather like a maiden, fond, yet coy, Who gives herself to him who best doth woo. Once she may smile, or

Recompense

Straight through my heart this fact to-day, By Truth’s own hand is driven: God never takes one thing away, But something else is given. I did not know in earlier years, This law of

Perished

I called to the summer sun, “Come over the hills to-day! Unlock the rivers, and tell them to run, And kiss the snow-drifts and melt them away.” And the sun came over – a

Communism

When my blood flows calm as a purling river, When my heart is asleep and my brain has sway, It is then that I vow we must part for ever, That I will forget

A Leaf

Somebody said, in the crowd, last eve, That you were married, or soon to be. I have not thought of you, I believe, Since last we parted. Let me see: Five long Summers have

Limitless

There is nothing, I hold, in the way of work That a human being may not achieve If he does not falter, or shrink, or shirk, And more than all, if he will believe.

A trusting little leaf of green

A little leaf just in the forest’s edge, All summer long, had listened to the wooing Of amorous brids that flew across the hedge, Singing their blithe sweet songs for her undoing. So many

An Inspiration

However the battle is ended, Though proudly the victor comes With fluttering flags and prancing nags And echoing roll of drums. Still truth proclaims this motto, In letters of living light, – No Question

Preaching Vs Practice

It is easy to sit in the sunshine And talk to the man in the shade; It is easy to float in a well-trimmed boat, And point out the places to wade. But once

Sestina

I wandered o’er the vast green plains of youth, And searched for Pleasure. On a distant height Fame’s silhouette stood sharp against the skies. Beyond vast crowds that thronged a broad highway I caught

Finis

An idle rhyme of the summer time, Sweet, and solemn, and tender; Fair with the haze of the moon’s pale rays, Bright with the sunset’s splendour. Summer and beauty over the lands – Careless

A Maiden's Secret

I have written this day down in my heart As the sweetest day in the season; From all of the others I’ve set it apart – But I will not tell you the reason,
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