Ella Wheeler Wilcox
There is no chance, no destiny, no fate,
Can circumvent or hinder or control
The firm resolve of a determined soul.
Gifts count for nothing; will alone is great;
All things give way before it, soon or late.
What obstacle can stay the mighty force
Of the sea-seeking river in its course,
Or cause the ascending orb of day to wait?
Each well-born soul must win what it deserves.
Let the fool prate of luck. The fortunate
Is he whose earnest purpose never swerves,
Whose slightest action or inaction serves
The one great aim. Why, even Death stands still,
And waits an hour sometimes for such a will.
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Comments about this poem (Will by Ella Wheeler Wilcox )
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- Daffodils, William Wordsworth
- If You Awaken Before Me, Lora Colon
- The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost
- If You Forget Me, Pablo Neruda
- Still I Rise, Maya Angelou
- Phenomenal Woman, Maya Angelou
- A Smile To Remember, Charles Bukowski
- Death is Nothing at All, Henry Scott Holland
- Alone With Everybody, Charles Bukowski
- Fire and Ice, Robert Frost