Section: «Poems»
Verse (ancient Greek ὁ στίχος — row, structure), a term in versification used in several meanings:
artistic speech organized by division into rhythmically commensurate segments; poetry in the narrow sense; in particular, it implies the properties of versification of a particular tradition ("antique verse", "Akhmatova's verse", etc.);
a line of poetic text organized according to a certain rhythmic pattern ("My uncle of the most honest rules").
Ambition's Trail
If all the end of this continuous strivingWere simply to attain,How poor would seem the planning and contrivingThe endless urging and the hurried..
© Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Always At Sea
Always at sea I think about the dead.On barques invisible they seem to sailThe self-same course; and from the decks cry 'Hail'!Then I recall old..
© Ella Wheeler Wilcox
All That Love Asks
All that I ask, 'says Love, 'is just to standAnd gaze, unchided, deep in thy dear eyes;For in their depths lies largest Paradise.Yet, if perchance..
© Ella Wheeler Wilcox
All Roads That Lead To God Are Good
All roads that lead to God are good.What matters it, your faith, or mine?Both centre at the goal divineOf love’s eternal Brotherhood.The kindly life..
© Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Alcohol's Requiem Upon Prof. P. F. K., A Gifted Man, Who Died A Victim Of Strong Drink
Ho! ho! Father Death! I have won you another!Another grand soul I have ruined and taken;I, who am licensed by good Christian people,Eat and eat at..
© Ella Wheeler Wilcox
After The Engagement
Well, Mabel, 'tis over and ended---The ball I wrote was to be;And oh! it was perfectly splendid---If you could have been here to see.I've a thousand..
© Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Advice
I must do as you do? Your way I ownIs a very good way, and still,There are sometimes two straight roads to a town,One over, one under the hill.You..
© Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Ad Finum
On the white throat of useless passionThat scorched my soul with its burning breathI clutched my fingers in murderous fashionAnd gathered them close..
© Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Acquaintance
Not we who daily walk the City's street;Not those who have been cradled in its heart,Best understand its architectural art,Or realise its grandeur...
© Ella Wheeler Wilcox
About May
One night Nurse Sleep held out her handTo tired little May.'Come, go with me to Wonderland,'She said, 'I know the way.Just rock-a-by-hum-m-m,And lo!..
© Ella Wheeler Wilcox
A World Worth Living In
One who claims that he knows about itTells me the earth is a vale of sin;But I and the bees, and the birds we doubt it,And think it a world worth..
© Ella Wheeler Wilcox
A Woman's Love
So vast the tide of Love within me surging,It overflows like some stupendous sea,The confines of the Present and To-be;And 'gainst the Past's high..
© Ella Wheeler Wilcox
A Waltz-Quadrille
The band was playing a waltz-quadrille,I felt as light as a wind-blown feather,As we floated away, at the caller’s will,Through the intricate, mazy..
© Ella Wheeler Wilcox
A Waif
My soul is like a poor caged bird to-night,Beating its wings against the prison bars,Longing to reach the outer world of light,And, all untrammelled..
© Ella Wheeler Wilcox
A Tumbler Of Claret
I poured out a tumbler of Claret,Of course with intention to drink,And, holding it up in the sunlight,I paused for a moment to think.I really can't..
© Ella Wheeler Wilcox
A Suggestion
As I go and shop, sir!If a car I stop, sir!Where you chance to sit,And you want to read, sir!Never mind or heed, sir!I’ll not care a bit.For it’s now..
© Ella Wheeler Wilcox
A Song Of Life
In the rapture of life and of living,I lift up my head and rejoice,And I thank the great Giver for givingThe soul of my gladness a voice.In the glow..
© Ella Wheeler Wilcox
A Servian Legend
Long, long ago, ere yet our race began,When earth was empty, waiting still for man,Before the breath of life to him was givenThe angels fell into a..
© Ella Wheeler Wilcox
A Sculptor
As the ambitious sculptor, tireless, liftsChisel and hammer to the block at hand,Before my half-formed character I standAnd ply the shining tools of..
© Ella Wheeler Wilcox
A Pin
Oh, I know a certain lady who is reckoned with the good,Yet she fills me with more terror than a raging lion would.The little chills run up and down..
© Ella Wheeler Wilcox
A Picture
I strolled last eve across the lonely down;One solitary picture struck my eye:A distant ploughboy stood against the sky—How far he seemed above the..
© Ella Wheeler Wilcox
A Naughty Little Comet
There was a little comet who lived near the Milky Way!She loved to wander out at night and jump about and play.The mother of the comet was a very..
© Ella Wheeler Wilcox
A Mother's Wail
The sweet young Spring walks over the earth,It flushes and glows on moor and lea;The birds are singing in careless mirth,The brook flows cheerily on..
© Ella Wheeler Wilcox
A Meeting
Quite carelessly I turned the newsy sheet;A song I sang, full many a year ago,Smiled up at me, as in a busy streetOne meets an old-time friend he..
© Ella Wheeler Wilcox
A Married Coquette
Sit still, I say, and dispense with heroics!I hurt your wrists? Well, you have hurt me.It is time you found out that all men are not stoics,Nor toys..
© Ella Wheeler Wilcox