Poems by Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Long have the poets vaunted, in their lays,
Old times, old loves, old friendship, and old w...

All suddenly between me and the light,
That brightly shone, and warm,
Robed in the pall-like...

TO KITTY. HER REVERIE. It is soiled and quite passé,
Broken too, and out of fashion,
...

Back in the box by the curtains shaded,
She sits alone by the house unseen;
Her eye is dim, ...

There are two angels, messengers of light,
Both born of God, who yet are bitterest foes.
No ...

Because of the fullness of what I had
All that I have seems void and vain.
If I had not been ha...

I said this morning, as I leaned and threw
My shutters open to the Spring's surprise,
"Tell m...

Build on resolve, and not upon regret,
The structure of thy future. Do not grope
Among the sh...

As the dead year is clasped by a dead December,
So let your dead sins with your dead days lie.
...

There is a haunting phantom called Regret,
A shadowy creature robed somewhat like woe,
But fa...

It may be, yet I have not found it so.
In those first golden dreams of future fame
I did not f...

Straight through my heart this face today,
By Truth's own hand is driven:
God never takes one...

From the soul of a man who was homeless
Came the deathless song of home.
And the praises of res...

All perfect things are saddening in effect.
The autumn wood robed in its scarlet clothes,
The ...

Columbia, large-hearted and tender,
Too long for the good of your kin
You have shared your ho...