Little Queen
Do you remember the name I wore ?
The old pet-name of Little Queen ?
In the dear, dead days that are no more,
The happiest days of our lives, I ween?
For we loved with that passionate love of youth
That blesses but once with its perfect bliss, -
A love that, in spite of its trust and truth,
Seems never to thrive, in a world like this.
I lived for you, and you lived for me;
All was centred in ?Little Queen?;
And never a thought in our hearts had we
That strife or trouble could come between,
What utter sinking of self it was!
How little we cared for the world of men!
For love?s fair kingdom, and loves? sweet laws,
Were all of the world and life to us then.
But a love like ours was a challenge to fate;
She rang down the curtains and shifted the scene;
Yet sometimes now, when the day grows late,
I can hear you calling for Little Queen;
For a happy home and a busy life
Can never wholly crowd out our past;
In the twilight pauses that come from strife,
You will think of me while life shall last.
And however sweet the voice of fame
May sing to me of a great world?s praise,
I shall long sometimes for the old pet-name
That you gave to me in the dear, dead days;
And nothing the angel band can say,
When I reach the shores of the great Unseen,
Can please me so much as on that day
To hear your greeting of ?Little Queen.?
Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Vous avez aimé cette poésie ? faites la connaître !
D'autres poésies de Ella Wheeler Wilcox
"It Might Have Been"
We will be what we could be. Do not say,
"It might have...
A Baby In The House
I knew that a baby was hid in that house,
Though I saw...
A Fallen Leaf
A trusting little leaf of green,
A bold audacious frost;...
A Fatal Impress
A little leaf just in the forest's edge,
All summer long,...
A Golden Day
The subtle beauty of this day
Hangs o'er me like a fairy...
A Grey Mood
As we hurry away to the end, my friend,
Of this sad...
A Holiday
The Wife
The house is like a garden,
The children...
A Leaf
Somebody said, in the crowd, last eve,
That you were...
A Lovers' Quarrel
We two were lovers, the Sea and I;
We plighted our troth...
A Maiden To Her Mirror
He said he loved me! Then he called my hair
Silk threads...
Précédentes poésies
Women
My three sisters are sitting
on rocks of black...
Victory
Something spreading underground won't speak to us
under...
Two Songs
1.
Sex, as they harshly call it,
I fell into...
Stepping Backward
Good-by to you whom I shall see tomorrow,
Next year and...
Snapshots of a Daughter-in-Law
1
You, once a belle in Shreveport,
with...
