Ella Wheeler Wilcox Poems

Why do we pity those who weep? The pain
That finds a ready outlet in the flow
Of salt and bitter tears is blessed woe,
...

When love is lost, the day sets towards the night,
Albeit the morning sun may still be bright,
And not one cloud-ship sails across the sky.
...

This is the baby who doesn't do a thing,
This is the lady who loves to wear a ring,
This is their big sister, this is another,
...

Whenever I am prone to doubt or wonder -
I check myself, and say, 'That mighty One
Who made the solar system cannot blunder -
And for the best all things are being done.'
...

If I were a raindrop, and you were a leaf,
I would burst from the cloud above you
And lie on your breast in a rapture of rest,
...

Long have the poets vaunted, in their lays,
Old times, old loves, old friendships, and old wine
Why should the old monopolise all praise?
Then let the new claim mine.
...

Oh! we love all the French, and we speak in French
As along through France we go.
But the moments to us that are keen and sweet
...

Life is too short for any vain regretting;
Let dead delight bury its dead, I say,
And let us go upon our way forgetting
...

Long, long ago, ere yet our race began,
When earth was empty, waiting still for man,
Before the breath of life to him was given
...

I step across the mystic border-land,
And look upon the wonder-world of Art.
How beautiful, how beautiful its hills!
...