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Ella Wheeler Wilcox

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 noisy town!
 
Upon the bosom of a cloud the sod
Laid its bruised cheek as he moved slowly by,
And, watching him, I asked myself if I
In very truth stood half as near to God.

#Americans #Women #XIXCentury #XXCentury #1883 #MiscellanousPoems

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Altre opere di Ella Wheeler Wilcox...
Platonic

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True Charity

I gave a beggar from my little sto… Of well-earned gold. He spent th… And came again, and yet again, sti… And hungry, as before. I gave a thought, and through that…
Wishes For a Little Girl

What would I ask the kindly fates… To crown her life, if I could hav… My strongest wishes would be negat… If they would but obey. Give her not greatness. For grea…
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Memory’s Mansion

In Memory’s Mansion are wonderful… And I wander about them at will; And I pause at the casements, whe… Are sending sweet scents o’er the… I lean from a window that looks on…
An Inspiration

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The Undiscovered Country

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In India’s land one listens aghas… To the people who scream and bawl; For each caste yells at a lower ca… And the Britisher yells at them a…
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Thank Fate for foes! I hold mine… As valued friends. He cannot know The zest of life who runneth here His earthly race without a foe. I saw a prize, “Run,” cried my fr…
Twilight Thoughts

The God of the day has vanished, The light from the hills has fled, And the hand of an unseen artist Is painting the west all red. All threaded with gold and crimson…
In the Night

In the silent midnight watches, When the earth was clothed in gloo… And the grim and awful darkness Crept unbidden to my room– On the solemn, deathly stillness
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She must be honest, both in though… Of generous impulse, and above all… Not seeking praise, or place, or p… But life’s best blessings for her… Which means the best for all.
The Suicide

Last was the wealth I carried in… Youth, health, ambition, hope and… And Fate, those robbers fit for a… Stole all, and left me but the emp… Before me lay a long and lonely tr…
My Heritage

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Will

You will be what you will to be; Let failure find its false content In that poor word “environment,” But spirit scorns it, and is free. It masters time, it conquers space…
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