Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Last Lines
A gray fog, drifted, and hid her from view.
A nice little woman there, watching for me.
A peace too wonderful to understand.
Achievements yet undreamed of shall be thine.
Ah! not alone are sun-kissed summits fair.
Ah, God! ah, God! 'tis this way men go mad!
All, all were needed lessons for my soul.
And all God's hidden purposes seem plain.
And all God's joys shall be at thy command.
And all the bees chant of the grave, and death.
And always with nothing to say.
And call September nothing but September.
And call this the happiest one.
And death and ruin filled the universe.
New! And die for the sake of the man.
And drop with you down to sweet Hell!
And evermore pain tinctures our delight.
And felt the kiss of the amorous bee.
And forgetfulness covers all sorrows at last.
And God shall hear your words and make them true.
And hail me friend in an opulent land.
And hang out 2.05 in the gaze of the world.
And I came away from the hall.
And I can never see her blue eyes shine.
And I stood prisoned in an awful world.
And I've only this cot and a warm heart for you.
And in God's sight both yielded to desire.
And its eyes to the Easter Morn.
And know that from my heart I sing.
And leaders in the floral world of fashion.
And leave the lesser word for lesser praise.
And let who will, hold Nature's calm more dear.
And life grows daily more worth the living.
And love that are wasted here.
And make a ghastly phantom of To-day.
And make us look up and not down.
And man stood never half so near to God.
And men grow better as the world grows old.
And my foolish heart throbbed in delight.
And neighbor, speaks never to neighbor.
And put out the lights. We are through with our play.
And rock on thy heaving breast?
And she would be constant and true.
And so in spite of my resolve, I do not play at all.
And so, forgive me if my eyes are wet.
And sometime, sometime, I shall reap reward.
And spurned, was once more told.
And stands serene triumphant, at the goal.
And stationed outside the locked door.
And still be fairest in the Angel band.
And the buttercups bloom in its place.
And the dead man stared on in the dark alone.
And the long night of sorrow wore away.
And the rose is shamed by her blushes.
And the shadows behind us lengthen.
And they do not heed, how the time drifts by.
And think of me kindly, with blessings, alway.
And this alone," said practical Is.
And this was the tale that the robin told.
And time to taste the joys of life.
And to grasp for pleasure we have not won.
And to-day holds a prize to be won.
And too deep silence would distress me, dead.
And we stand in the silence - dumb.
And what heart sorrows? O no, not mine!
And yet "Society" locks her out.
And you are the loveliest flower that grows.
And you will find them swiftly flocking there.
And, smiling sweetly in her slumbers, died.
Are found in the minor strains of life.
Are they seven, she counts one more.
As baby Eva -- beneath the skies.
As long as men have hearts that long for homes.
As water shapes into a vessel.
"Beloved servant, well, and nobly done."
Brings the boat to shore, or my heart to thee.
Broods o'er the scars of pleasures that have been.
But chained and directed they gladden the world.
But God extracts the interest hour by hour.
But the world said, frowning, "We shall not call."
But they only respond with a wail.
By man's cold pity for repentant vice.
By the Great Composer, you have made plain.
By the jolly old soak, with a nose like the sun!
Can find no joy outside thy border-line.
Can never remove the stain of his kiss.
Child, Mother, Mistress - all in one word - Wife.
Clasps close his islands and laughs aloud.
Come not till March has first prepared the way.
Complete surrender of the whole I make.
Convinces me of everlasting life.
Down to the grave; and its hopes are vain.
E'en as my heart pleads with me to.
Earth can hold, I shall not see.
Ere he wear the purple true poets wear.
Explaining all that seems so strange below.
For each new conquest of this phantom maid.
For life is a swift-flowing river at best.
For Love is all, and over all. Amen.
For my heart is too light for sighing.
For only Death can reconcile the two.
For that is my conception of hell-fire.
For that old yellow almanac upon my kitchen wall.
For the demon lurked under the angel in me.
For the little white hearse has been, too, at my door.
For the moonlight walks -- and you.
For the rest is poor and vain.
For the triumphant finish of its course.
For through them shone the lustrous eyes of Love.
From his brushes have been hurled.
Full three-score years, and ten.
Gained God, through Christ, forevermore.
Give me the heart's last love, for that is best.
Give me, I say, our own American.
Go forth with yonder throng, and wait.
God pity those who live to hear it said!
God's azure skies, into the turquoise grew.
Heaven was not complete without her.
Ho, ho, old Time, I may cheat you yet!
How dim the vision that confounds the two!
How many burdens have you helped to bear?
How sorrow ever would be our friend.
Hushed his wild words. Well, has he found his youth?
I am sure, very sure, there's a babe in that house.
I have given you warning! now choose your own fate!
I hold all men to be my friends.
I need not doubt His wisdom or His love.
I shall always sing her praise.
I shall be given courage to the end.
I shall finish and complete by the shining Jasper sea.
I think it will happen in May.
I think its ghost will haunt us evermore.
I will be true, though thou art false to me.
I will believe till the Judgment-day.
I'd take that hour and call my life complete.
I'll follow you. But now he waits for me.
If thou wilt restore all these, good dame.
If you will be patient - and use your time.
In bitter pain, I trust His mercy still.
In each shadowy corner, there lurketh a ghost.
In talking peace, when men declare for war?
In the hands of the healer of all wounds -- 'Old Time.'
In the sleep of death, on her breast.
Is a song of the glorious new.
Is better equipped for the world's hard fight.
is but an insect's sepulchre at best.
Is the child that was born to them.
It burst in the glad spring season.
It gives the world more light.
Its music has exhaled -- will love grow cold?
Live worthy of it - call, and it shall come.
Love is more perfect than anticipated.
Moon-faced Lily, my ocean pearl.
More beautiful as they came true.
More beautiful, more precious than before.
My boat and I, in the summer weather.
My love -- oh my love! -- that is buried to-day.
'Neath their robes and diadems.
Needs friendship's solid masonwork below.
No glory greater than to share your woe.
No longer fearing that he be denied.
No year brings June that does not bring December.
Nor dream to whom 'twas penned.
"Nor taste of pain." Oh Life, oh Death.
Now which of these men was the richer one?
Of flowers, and birds, and bees, came over the hills.
Of the God in you to achieve -- achieve.
Of void and aching nothingness, makes Hell.
New! Of what thy soul can feel.
Oh! let us away to the gay bright town.
Oh, God! Oh, God! have pity on that one.
Oh, had that prayer been first!
"Oh, it is nothing but smoke in my eyes."
On a rich man's table, rim to rim.
On passion's altar must hearts be cast!
Or else, with one swift stroke annihilate!
Our hearts shall evermore be satisfied.
Pass out, or another pass in, first or last.
Pierced to the core by Cupid's fatal dart.
Pity the hearts that know - or know not - Love!
Rise to the combat, save the nation!
Rushed to my arms, and spat upon your face.
Saying "All things must pass away."
See only that the Sun is in eclipse.
Shall change to a paean of peace.
Shall climb and claim blest immortality.
Shall lead me into the Better Way.
Shall we behold "no classes" on God's earth.
She clasps her rightful lover -- Pestilence.
She were dead, 'twould seem better to-day.
Should not be shadowed by the Artisan!
Since the world began -- since the world began.
So we'll move up town next spring.
Suspect suspicion, and doubt only doubt.
Than all it promised me of old.
Than grovel as they grovel on through life.
Than the pain of those vanished days!
That all through the summer, I saw in thy hair.
That cannot find its satisfaction here.
That crawls the length of some ancestral tree?
That is the only evil that can kill.
That lost ship lies with its waving hand.
That men are governed by their horoscopes.
That other hearts may know, and hail thee friend.
That passionate Love is Pain's own mother.
That sends down his song from the trees.
That yearns all winter for the kiss of spring.
The "county house," the best invention.
The conquerer of all things -- save himself.
The dawn shall prove thy arrows hit the mark.
"The fight itself, was not as hard."
The joys of souls that dwell among the blest.
The lingering spell of that first embrace.
The look of a love grown tired.
The lovely lost Atlantis of their Youth.
The music is over, and vanished the wrecks.
The nameless shadow, vague, and undefined.
The nightingale unchided sing her song?
The old wooden cradle, is ruthlessly cast.
The optimistic Willow spoke of spring.
The rose is dead: and her love -- has fled.
The secret of success is Concentration.
The songs I have written will live," he said.
The sorriest things in this life will seem grandest in the next.
The sorrow of our sad mistakes.
The soul's divine inheritance is best.
The sweet, blessed Lady of Tears.
The things that no mortal shall know.
The undiscovered country of thy soul!
The violets always - till the roses come!
The wan, worn face of the bruised old world.
The world grows better every day.
Then all unnoticed she passes out.
Then closet well your phantoms, and your grief.
Then count that day as worse than lost.
Then, life has been worth while.
There is no thing which Love may not achieve.
These are our country's pride, our country's need.
They are so delicate and sweet at this time of the year.
They found the erring woman, dead.
Thou, like the child, shalt perish in the fire.
Though all the world is glad, still talks of grief.
Though critics to the end deride.
Though kingdoms may perish and stars decay.
Though they may not all be praising.
Through any channel, save the one He meant.
Through liberty and love men climb to God.
Through the harmony's warp and woof.
Through the narrow aisles of pain.
To a glad, triumphant measure.
To anchor in the harbour of Success.
To be always singing about it.
To change or alter a love like mine.
To hear your greeting of "Little Queen."
To nail the stars upon the evening sky.
To please and edify the crowd.
To suit the general public, 'twill bust the world in two.
To the limitless City of Love.
To the Source that you came from, New Year.
To those who have not, this alone is gain.
To thrust aside half-truths and grasp the whole.
To tidy up the world for me, by picking up this pin!
Uncrowned by glory and by men unsung.
Under my window -- you all must die.
Until she dies for love of him.
Until you shall hark to the Spirit within.
Walked in the gloaming, and love ran high.
Walks with another, and woos anew.
Was right, and who did not falter.
We find but "once in a while."
We take the little basket just as empty as we brought it.
What a terrible end, to the life that God gave.
Whatever comes, This too shall pass away.
Whatever went out from your mind.
When Christmas bells are pelting the air with silver chimes.
When the poet's heart is the saddest.
When the world would praise me, an hour or so.
Where Duty walks with Love in endless youth.
Where lie our shipwrecks, and our coral caves.
Where the feet of my Jamie stray.
Where the lilies of peace are in bloom.
Wherever her steps shall stray.
While fickle natures win the deeper love.
While listening gods laugh loud in merriment.
While the wind went whistling south.
Who fought for that Nation's fame.
Who has not strayed beyond his meadows fair.
Who is three years old to-day.
Who knows not the meaning of "flirt" or "style."
Who wonders how the hammock feels?
"Why home is the 'Kingdom of Love!'"
Why dost thou hold to him, then, spurning me?
Why my heart is as light as a feather.
Why not thine own? Press on; achieve! achieve!
Why then, my answer will not quite be -- No.
"Will these robe me, when I die?"
Will dream they are playing their parts.
Will life be long enough to love thee in.
Will vanish at the dawn of heavenly skies.
Will write me out a pardon with His hand.
With her mother's beautiful eyes.
With some new gift to crown me.
You are but a weak woman at the best.
You shall find in the City of Rest.
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