Oh! I know this truth, if I know no other, That passionate Love is Pain's own mother. — Ella Wheeler Wilcox Copy Share Image
Thank Fate for foes! I hold mine dear As valued friends. He cannot know The zest of life who runneth here His… — Ella Wheeler Wilcox Copy Share Image
Wiped the cold dew-drops from his cheek And sought the mourner's side again. "Once more, dear lady, I must speak: Your last… — Ella Wheeler Wilcox Copy Share Image
The passion you forbade my lips to utter Will not be silenced. You must hear it in The sullen thunders when they… — Ella Wheeler Wilcox Copy Share Image
Better than glory, or honors, or fame, (Though I am striving for those to-day) To know that some heart will cherish my… — Ella Wheeler Wilcox Copy Share Image
Let no man pray that he know not sorrow, Let no soul ask to be free from pain, For the gall of… — Ella Wheeler Wilcox Copy Share Image
All perfect things are saddening in effect. The autumn wood robed in its scarlet clothes, The matchless tinting on the royal rose… — Ella Wheeler Wilcox Copy Share Image
There is a haunting phantom called Regret, A shadowy creature robed somewhat like woe, But fairer in the face, whom all men… — Ella Wheeler Wilcox Copy Share Image
We flatter those we scarcely know, We please the fleeting guest; And deal full many a thoughtless blow, To those who love… — Ella Wheeler Wilcox Copy Share Image
What can be said in New Year rhymes, That's not been said a thousand times? The new years come, the old years… — Ella Wheeler Wilcox Copy Share Image
Let no one pray that they know not sorrow, Let no soul ask to be free from pain, For the gall of… — Ella Wheeler Wilcox Copy Share Image
The sin and the shame and the sorrow, The crime and the want and the woe That are born there in your… — Ella Wheeler Wilcox Copy Share Image
Love is the only thing that pays for birth, Or makes death welcome. Oh, dear God above This beautiful but sad, perplexing… — Ella Wheeler Wilcox Copy Share Image
Love is the impulse which directs the world, And all things know it and obey its power. Man, in the maelstrom of… — Ella Wheeler Wilcox Copy Share Image
But now I know that there is no killing A thing like Love, for it laughs at Death. There is no hushing,… — Ella Wheeler Wilcox Copy Share Image
A day which passed without a poem from my pen I considered lost and misused. — Ella Wheeler Wilcox Copy Share Image
Talk health. The dreary, never-changing tale Of mortal maladies is worn and stale. You cannot charm, or interest, or please By harping in that… — Ella Wheeler Wilcox Copy Share Image
Why dost thou shrink from my approach, O Man? Why dost thou ever flee in fear, and cling To my false rival, Life? I… — Ella Wheeler Wilcox Copy Share Image
With every rising of the sun Think of your life as just begun. The past has shrived and buried deep All yesterdays— there let… — Ella Wheeler Wilcox Copy Share Image
“Why, even Death stands still and waits an hour for such a will.” — Ella Wheeler Wilcox Copy Share Image
Better to wait and yearn, and still to wait, And die at last with unappeased desire, Than live to be the jest of such… — Ella Wheeler Wilcox Copy Share Image
Love lights more fires than hate extinguishes, and men grow better as the world grows old. — Ella Wheeler Wilcox Copy Share Image
Back on its golden hinges The gate of Memory swings, And my heart goes into the garden And walks with the olden things. — Ella Wheeler Wilcox Copy Share Image
I hold it true that thoughts are things Endowed with bodies, breath, and wings, And that we send them forth to fill The world… — Ella Wheeler Wilcox Copy Share Image
All perfect things are saddening in effect. The autumn wood robed in its scarlet clothes, The matchless tinting on the royal rose Whose velvet… — Ella Wheeler Wilcox Copy Share Image
Don't anticipate the happiness of tomorrow. Discover it today. — Ella Wheeler Wilcox Copy Share Image
