Time?s finger on the dial of my life
Points to high noon! And yet the half-spent day
Leaves less than half remaining, for the dark,
Bleak shadows of the grave engulf the end.
To those who burn the candle to the stick,
The sputtering socket yields but little light.
Long life is sadder than early death.
We cannot count on raveled threads of age
Whereof to weave a fabric.We must use
The warp and woof the ready present yields
And toils while daylight lasts.When I bethink
How brief the past, the future still more brief,
Calls on to action, action!Not for me
Is time for retrospection or for dreams,
Not time for self-laudation or remorse.
Have I done nobly?Then I must not let
Dead yesterday unborn to-morrow shame.
Have I done wrong?Well, let the bitter taste
Of fruit that turned to ashes on my lip
Be my reminder in temptations hour,
And keep me silent when I could condemn.
Sometimes it takes the acid of a sin
To cleanse the clouded windows of our souls
So pity may shine through them.
My faults and errors seem like stepping-stones
That led the way to knowledge of the truth
And made me value virtue: sorrows shine
In rainbow colours o?er the gulf of years,
Where lie forgotten pleasures.
Out to the westers sky still bright with noon,
I feel well spurred and booted for the strife
That ends not till Nirvana is attained.
Battling with fate, with men and with myself,
Up the steep summit of my life?s forenoon,
Three things I learned, three things of precious worth
To guide and help me down the western slope.
I have learned how to pray, and toil, and save.
To pray for courage to receive what comes,
Knowing what comes to be divinely sent.
To toil for universal good, since thus
And only thus can good come unto me.
To save, by giving whatsoe?er I have
To those who have not, this alone is gain.
Ella Wheeler Wilcox
written by Ella Wheeler Wilcox, published on Sat 07.31.2010 at 12:07
Life is a privilege. Its youthful days
Shine with the radiance of continuous Mays.
To live, to breathe, to wonder and desire,
written by Ella Wheeler Wilcox, published on Tue 07.27.2010 at 23:12
We will lay our summer away, my friend,
So tenderly lay it away.
It was bright and sweet to the very end,
written by Ella Wheeler Wilcox, published on Mon 07.26.2010 at 10:56
I know not whence I came,
I know not whither I go;
But the fact stands clear that I am here
written by Ella Wheeler Wilcox, published on Sun 07.18.2010 at 13:43
You are the moon, dear love, and I the sea:
The tide of hope swells high within my breast,
written by Ella Wheeler Wilcox, published on Sun 05.30.2010 at 08:56
Let the old snow be covered with the new:
The trampled snow, so soiled, and stained, and sodden.