Quote

And he who has dwelt with his heart alone, Hears all the music in friendship's tone. So better and better I comprehend How sorrow ever would be our friend.

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
Friendship
Friend
Alone
Dwelt
Music
Hears
Better
Comprehend
Ever
Tone
Heart
Forgiveness
Would
Sorrow

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It is easy enough to be virtuous 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. For the soul that is worth the treasures of the earth is the soul that resists desire.
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High in the heavens I saw the moon this morning, Albeit the sun shone bright Unto my soul it spoke, in voice of warning, Remember Night!
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There is new strength, repose of mind, and inspiration in fresh apparel.
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Love is the impulse which directs the world, And all things know it and obey its power. Man, in the maelstrom of his passions whirled The bee that takes the pollen to the flower The earth, uplifting her bare, pulsing breast To fervent kisses of the amorous sun-- Each but obeys creative Love's behest, Which everywhere instinctively is done.
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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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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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Time sped. And the poet through sorrow Became like his suffering kind. Again he toiled over his poems To lighten the grief of his mind.
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While forced to dwell apart from thy dear face, Love, robed like sorrow, led me by the hand And taught my doubting heart to understand That which has puzzled all the human race.
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O skies, be calm! O winds, blow free - Blow all my ships safe home to me! But if thou sendest some a-wrack, To never more come sailing back, Send any - all that skim the sea, But bring my love-ship home to me.
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There is nothing ridiculous in love.
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Trust in your own untried capacity.
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Love is the only thing that pays for birth, Or makes death welcome. Oh, dear God above This beautiful but sad, perplexing earth, Pity the hearts that know--or know not--Love!
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You may choose your words like a connoisseur, And polish it up with art, But the word that sways, and stirs, and stays, Is the word that comes from the heart.
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Give her not greatness. For great souls must stand Alone and lonely in this little world: Cleft rocks that show the great Creator's hand, Thither by earthquakes hurled.
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I think of death as some delightful journey that I shall take when all my tasks are done.
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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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Ah, lady! it is hardly what you thought it, This life of luxury and social power You gave yourself as principal, and bought it, But God extracts the interest hour by hour.
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Love much. Earth has enough of bitter in it.
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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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Change is the watchword of progression.
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