ELLA WHEELER WILCOX

 

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Interlude

 

The days grow shorter, the nights grow longer,

The headstones thicken along the way;

And life grows sadder but love grows stronger

For those who walk with us, day by day.

The tear comes quicker, the laugh conies slower,

The courage is lesser to do and dare;

And the tide of joy in the heart runs lower,

And seldom covers the reefs of care.

But all true things in the world seem truer,

And the better things of the earth seem best;

And friends are dearer as friends are fewer,

And love is all as our sun dips west.

Then let us clasp hands as we walk together,
And let us speak softly, in love's sweet tone;

For no man knows, on the morrow, whether
We two pass by, or but one alone.

 

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You Never Can Tell

 

You never can tell when you send a word—

Like an arrow shot from a bow
By an archer blind—be it cruel or kind,

Just where it will chance to go.
It may pierce the breast of your dearest friend,

Tipped with its poison or balm;
To a stranger's heart in life's great mart

It may carry its pain or its calm.

 

You never can tell when you do an act

Just what the result will be;
But with every deed you are sowing a seed,

Though its harvest you may not see.
Each kindly act is an acorn dropped

In God's productive soil;
Though you may not know, yet the tree shall grow

And shelter the brows that toil.

 

You never can tell what your thoughts will do

In bringing you hate or love;
For thoughts are things, and their airy wings

Are swifter than carrier doves.
They follow the law of the universe—

Each thing must create its kind;
And they speed o'er the track to bring you back

Whatever went out from your mind.

 

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You and Today

 

With every rising of the sun
Think of your life as just begun,
The past has strived and buried deep
All yesterdays — there let them sleep,
Nor seek to summon back one ghost
Of that innumerable host.

 

Concern yourself but with today,
Woo it and teach it to obey
Your wish and will. Since time began
Today has been the friend of man.
But in his blindness and his sorrow
He looks to yesterday and tomorrow.

 

You and today, a soul sublime,
And the great pregnant hour of time,
With God between to bind the twain,
Go forth, I say. Attain! Attain!

 

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John Wesley’s Rule

 

Do all the good you can,
By all the means you can,
In all the ways you can,
In all the places you can,
At all the times you can,
To all the people you can,
As long as ever you can.

 

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Have Faith in God

 

I will not doubt, though all my ships at sea
Come drifting home with broken masts and sails;
I shall believe the Hand that never fails,

From seeming evil worketh good for me;

And though I weep because those sails are battered,

Still will I cry, while my best hopes lie shattered,

“I trust in Thee.”

I will not doubt, though all my prayers return
Unanswered from the still, white realm above;
I shall believe it is an all-wise Love

Which has refused those things for which I yearn;

And though at times I cannot keep from grieving,

Yet the pure ardour of my fixed believing

Undimmed shall burn.

 

I will not doubt, though sorrows fall like rain,
And troubles swarm like bees about a hive;
I shall believe the heights for which I strive

Are only reached by anguish and by pain;

And though 1 groan ana tremble with my crosses,

I yet shall see, through my severest losses,

The greater gain.

 

I will not doubt; well anchored in the faith,

Like some staunch ship, my soul braves every gale,
So strong its courage tbat it will not fail

To breast the mighty, unknown sea of death.

Oh, may I cry, when body parts with spirit,

“I do not doubt!” so listening worlds may hear it,

With my last breath.

 

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Easy Enough to Be Pleasant

 

It is easy enough to be pleasant

While life flows by like a song,

But the man worth while is the man who will smile,

When everything goes dead wrong.

For the test of the heart is trouble,

And it always comes with the years,

And the smile that is worth the praises of earth

Is the smile that shines through tears.

 

It is easy enough to be prudent
When nothing tempts you to stray;

When without or within no voice of sin
Is luring your soul away.

But it is only a negative virtue

Until it is tried by fire,

And the life that is worth the honor of earth

Is the one that resists desire.

 

By the cynic, the sad, the fallen,

Who hath no strength for the strife,

The world's highway is cumbered to-day

They make up the items of life.

But the virtue that conquers passion

And the sorrow that hides in a smile,

It is these that are worth the homage of earth

For we find them but once in a while.

 

*

A Fragment

 

Your words came just when needed. Like a breeze,
Blowing and bringing from the wide salt sea
Some cooling spray, to meadow scorched with heat
And choked with dust, and clouds of sifting sand,
That hateful whirlwinds, envious of its bloom,

Had tossed upon it. But the cool sea-breeze
Came laden with the odors of the sea
And damp with spray, that laid the dust and sand
And brought new life and strength to blade and bloom.

So words of thine came over miles to me.
Fresh from that mighty sea. a true friend’s heart,
And brought me hope, and strength, and swept away

The dusty webs that human spiders spun

Across my path. Friend—and the word means much—

.So few there are who reach like thee, a hand

Up over all the barking curs of spite,

And give the clasp, when most its need is felt,—

Friend, newly found, accept my full heart's thanks.

 

*

Life’s Scars

 

They say the world is round, and yet
I often think it square,

So many little hurts we get
From corners here and there.

But one great truth in life I’ve found,
While journeying to the west,—

The only folks who really wound
Are those we love the best.

 

The man you thoroughly despise
Can rouse your wrath, ’tis true;
Annoyance in your heart will rise
At things mere strangers do;
But those are only passing ills,
This rule all lives will prove:
The rankling wound which aches and thrills
Is dealt by hands we love.

 

The choicest garb, the sweetest grace,
Are oft to strangers shown;

The careless mien, the frowning face
Are given to our own. '

We flatter those we scarcely know;
We please the fleeting guest;

And deal full many a thoughtless blow
To those who love as best.

 

Love does not grow on every tree,
Nor true hearts yearly bloom.
Alas, for those who only see
This cut across a tomb!
But, soon or late, the fact grows plain
To all through sorrow’s test;
The only folks who give us pain
Are those we love the best.

 

*

I Love Your Lips

 

I love your lips when they’re wet with wine.

And warm with a wild desire;

I love your eyes when their light divine

Is lost in a passionate fire;

I love your arms when their white, hot flesh

Bums me in close embrace ;

I love your hair when its strands enmesh

My kisses against your face.

 

Not for me the cold, calm kiss.

Or a virgin’s bloodless love ;

Not for me the saint’s white bliss.

The spotless breast of a dove;

Not for me the love that lives

For a sinless, soulful aim,

But the love that its riches freely gives.

And laughs though the whole world blame.

 

So kiss me sweet with your warm, wet mouth,

Still fragrant with rosy wine;

Say with the fervor that’s born in the south.

Your body and soul are mine ;

Clasp me close till the break of day.

While the pale stars smile above.

And we’ll laugh our long, wild lives away

In the joy of a living love.

 

*

A Morning Prayer

 

Let me today do something that will take

A little sadness from the world’s vast store,

And may I be so favored as to make

Of joy’s too scanty sum a little more.

 

Let me not hurt, by any selfish deed

Or thoughtless word, the heart of foe or friend,

Nor would I pass unseeing worthy need,

Or sin by silence when I should defend.

 

However meager by my worldly wealth,

Let me give something that shall aid my kind—

A word of courage, or a thought of health

Dropped as I pass for trouble hearts to find.

 

Let me tonight look back across the span

Twixt dawn and dark, and to my conscience say—

Because of some good act to beast or man—

“The world is better that I lived today.”

 

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Solitude

 

Laugh, and the world laughs with you,

Weep, and you weep alone;
For this brave old earth must borrow its mirth,

It has trouble enough of its own.

Sing, and the hills will answer,

Sigh, it is lost on the air;
The echoes bound to a joyful sound,

But shrink from voicing care.

 

Rejoice, and men will seek you,

Grieve, and they turn and go;
They want full measure for all your pleasure,

But do not want your woe.

Be glad, and your friends are many,

Be sad, and you lose them all;
There are none to decline your nectared wine,

But alone you most drink life’s gall.

 

Feast, and your halls are crowded,

Fast, and the world goes by;
Succeed and give, and it helps you to live,

But no man can help you to die.

There's room in the halls of pleasure

For a long and lordly train,
But one by one we must all file on

Thro’ the narrow aisles of pain.