Quote

There are ghosts in the room. As I sit here alone, from the dark corners there They come out of the gloom, And they stand at my side and they lean on my chair.

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

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Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Age: 68 †
Born: 1850
Born: November 5
Died: 1919
Died: October 30
Author
Poet
Writer
Janesville
Wisconsin
Come
Room
Rooms
Gloom
Side
Ghosts
Stand
Lean
Sides
Chair
Alone
Chairs
Dark
Ghost
Fear
Corners

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God made poor woman with no heart, But gave her skill, and tact, and art, And so she lives, and plays her part. We must not blame, but pity her.
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I hold it true that thoughts are things Endowed with bodies, breath, and wings, And that we send them forth to fill The world with good results--or ill.
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Laugh, and the world laughs with you: Weep, and you weep alone. For the sad old earth must borrow its mirth, But has trouble enough of its own.
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I think I never passed so sad an hour, Dear friend, as that one at the church to-night. The edifice from basement to the tower Was one resplendent blaze of coloured light.
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There is no chance, no destiny, no fate, that can circumvent or hinder or control the firm resolve of a determined soul.
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A day which passed without a poem from my pen I considered lost and misused.
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Oh! not for the great departed, Who formed our country's laws, And not for the bravest-hearted, Who died in freedom's cause, And not for some living hero To whom all bend the knee, My muse would raise her song of praise - But for the man to be.
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Whatever is... is best.
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I detect more good than evil in humanity. Love lights more fires than hate extinguishes, And men grow better as the world grows old.
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I know there are no errors, In the great Eternal plan.
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Who would attain to summits still and fair,Must nerve himself through valleys of despair.
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Sweep up the debris of decaying faith Sweep down the cobwebs of worn-out out beliefs, And throw your soul wide open to the light of reason and of knowledge. Be not afraid To thrust aside half-truths and grasp the whole.
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Just a little every day That's the way Children learn to read and write Bit by bit and mite by mite.
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Give thy love freely, do not count the cost: So beautiful a thing was never lost.
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How happy they are, in all seeming, How gay, or how smilingly proud, How brightly their faces are beaming, These people who make up the crowd!
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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 may chance to go!
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Then I turned to him commanding That he go the way he came, whence he came. But he answered me in sorrow, May the Past not seek to borrow From the Present without blame - Just one memory from its store, Ere it goes to come no more, Back the pathway that it came, whence it came?
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Love is as bitter as the dregs of sin, As sweet as clover-honey in its cell Love is the password whereby souls get in To Heaven--the gate that leads, sometimes, to Hell.
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The splendid discontent of God With chaos made the world. And from the discontent of man The worlds best progress springs.
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Through strife the slumbering soul awakes, We learn on error's troubled route The truths we could not prize without The sorrow of our sad mistakes.
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