written by Ella Wheeler WilcoxThe pessimist locust, last to leaf,
Though all the world is glad, still talks of grief.
Ella Wheeler Wilcox
written by Ella Wheeler Wilcox, published on Thu 05.26.2011 at 07:16
'Tis not the untried soldier new to danger
Who fears to enter into active strife.
written by Ella Wheeler Wilcox, published on Fri 05.06.2011 at 01:52
Somebody said, in the crowd, last eve,
That you were married, or soon to be.
I have not thought of you, I believe,
written by Ella Wheeler Wilcox, published on Tue 05.03.2011 at 19:42
The Sunbeam loved the Moonbeam,
And followed her low and high,
But Moonbeam fled and hid her head,
She was so shy ? so shy.
written by Ella Wheeler Wilcox, published on Wed 04.13.2011 at 19:30
In the warm yellow smile of the morning,
She stands at the lattice pane,
And watches the strong young binders
written by Ella Wheeler Wilcox, published on Wed 04.13.2011 at 07:47
There is much in life that makes me sorry as I journey
down life?s way.
And I seem to see more pathos in poor human
written by Ella Wheeler Wilcox, published on Thu 04.07.2011 at 04:18
Here in my office I sit and write
Hour on hour, and day on day,
With no one to speak to from morn till night,