Rubies

The crimson life-drops from a virgin heart
Pierced to the core by Cupid's fatal dart.

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Ella Wheeler Wilcox was an American author and poet, born on November 5, 1850, and died on October 30, 1919. She was known for her works expressing optimistic views and moral lessons. Her most famous book was 'Poems of Passion'. Her poem 'Solitude' contains the famous lines, 'Laugh, and the world laughs with you; weep, and you weep alone'. Over her career, Wilcox became popularly known as a 'people's poet'.

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Attainment

Ella Wheeler Wilcox, Simple Poetry

The Ocean Of Song

Ella Wheeler Wilcox, Simple Poetry

Widows

Ella Wheeler Wilcox, Simple Poetry

Preface To Poems Of Cheer

Ella Wheeler Wilcox, Simple Poetry

English

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A Maiden To Her Mirror

He said he loved me! Then he called my hair
    Silk threads wherewith sly Cupid strings his bow,
    My cheek a rose leaf fallen on new snow;
And swore my round, full throat would bring despair
To Venus or to Psyche.

    Time and care
    Will fade these locks; the merry god, I trow,
    Uses no grizzled cords upon his bow.
How will it be when I, no longer fair,
    Plead for his kiss with cheeks whence long ago
The early snowflakes melted quite away,
The rose leaf died -and in whose sallow clay
    Lie the deep sunken tracks of life's gaunt crow?

When this full throat shall wattle fold on fold,
    Like some ripe peach left drying on a wall,
    Or like a spent accordion, when all
Its music has exhaled -will love grow cold?

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Diamonds

The tears of fallen women turned to ice
By man's cold pity for repentant vice.

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

The Coquette.

        Alone she sat with her accusing heart,
    That, like a restless comrade frightened sleep,
        And every thought that found her, left a dart
    That hurt her so, she could not even weep.

        Her heart that once had been a cup well filled
    With love's red wine, save for some drops of gall
        She knew was empty; though it had not spilled
    Its sweets for one, but wasted them on all.

        She stood upon the grave of her dead truth,
    And saw her soul's bright armor red with rust,
        And knew that all the riches of her youth
    Were Dead Sea apples, crumbling into dust.

        Love that had turned to bitter, biting scorn,
    Hearthstones despoiled, and homes made desolate,
        Made her cry out that she was ever b...

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

What Gain?

Now, while thy rounded cheek is fresh and fair,
    While beauty lingers, laughing, in thine eyes,
Ere thy young heart shall meet the stranger, "Care,"
    Or thy blithe soul become the home of sighs,
Were it not kindness should I give thee rest
By plunging this sharp dagger in thy breast?
Dying so young, with all thy wealth of youth,
What part of life wouldst thou not claim, in sooth?
        Only the woe,
    Sweetheart, that sad souls know.

Now, in this sacred hour of supreme trust,
    Of pure delight and palpitating joy,
Ere change can come, as come it surely must,
    With jarring doubts and discords, to destroy
Our far too perfect peace, I pray thee, Sweet,
Were it not best for both of us, and meet,
If I should bring swift death to seal our bliss?...

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

What Gain?

Now, while thy rounded cheek is fresh and fair,
    While beauty lingers, laughing, in thine eyes,
Ere thy young heart shall meet the stranger, "Care,"
    Or thy blithe soul become the home of sighs,
Were it not kindness should I give thee rest
By plunging this sharp dagger in thy breast?
Dying so young, with all thy wealth of youth,
What part of life wouldst thou not claim, in sooth?
        Only the woe,
        Sweetheart, that sad souls know.

Now, in this sacred hour of supreme trust,
    Of pure delight and palpitating joy,
Ere change can come, as come it surely must,
    With jarring doubts and discords, to destroy
Our far too perfect peace, I pray thee, Sweet,
Were it not best for both of us, and meet,
If I should bring swift death to seal our bl...

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Two Roses

A humble wild-rose, pink and slender,
    Was plucked and placed in a bright bouquet,
Beside a Jacqueminot's royal splendour,
    And both in my lady's boudoir lay.

Said the haughty bud, in a tone of scorning,
    "I wonder why you are called a rose?
Your leaves will fade in a single morning;
    No blood of mine in your pale cheek glows.

"Your coarse green stalk shows dust of the highway,
    You have no depths of fragrant bloom;
And what could you learn in a rustic byway
    To fit you to lie in my lady's room?

"If called to adorn her warm, white bosom,
    What have you to offer for such a place,
Beside my fragrant and splendid blossom,
    Ripe with colour and rich with grace?"

Said the sweet wild-rose, "Despite your dower
    ...

Ella Wheeler Wilcox