283. The Rainbow Of Promise In the face of the sun are great thunderbolts hurled,
And the storm-clouds have shut out its light;But a Rainbow of Promise now shines on the world,
284. The Lodge-Room Don't bring into the lodge-room
Anger, and spite, and pride.Drop at the gate of the temple
285. Love's Language How does Love speak?
In the faint flush upon the tell-tale cheek, And in the pallor that succeeds it; by
286. Be Not Weary Sometimes, when I am toil-worn and aweary,
And tired out with working long and well, And earth is dark, and skies above are dreary,
287. The Black Sheep 'Black sheep, black sheep, have you any wool?'
'Yes, sir-yes, sir: three bags full.'
288. Earthly Pride How baseless is the mightiest earthly pride,
The diamond is but charcoal purified, The lordliest pearl that decks a monarchâ??s breast
289. When Love Is Lost When love is lost, the day sets towards the night,
Albeit the morning sun may still be bright,And not one cloud-ship sails across the sky.
290. Denied The winds came out of the west one day,
And hurried the clouds before them; And drove the shadows and mists away,
291. Queries Well, how has it been with you since we met
That last strange time of a hundred times?When we met to swear that we could forgetâ??
292. Integrity Immortal life is something to be earned,
By slow, self-conquest, comradeship with pain,And patient seeking after higher truths.
293. When You Go Away When you go away, my friend,
When you say your last good-bye, Then the summer time will end,
294. Three-Fold Somewhere I've read a thoughtful mind's reflection:
'All perfect things are three-fold'; and I knowOur love has the rare symbol of perfection;
295. Floods In the dark night, from sweet refreshing sleep
296. The Summons Some day, when the golden glory
Of June is over the earth, And the birds are singing together
297. Dorothy D. I'm sick of 'musn'ts,' said Dorothy D.
Sick of musn'ts, as I can be.From early dawn till the close of day
298. The Pessimist The pessimist locust, last to leaf,
Though all the world is glad, still talks of grief.
299. The Ogre Slam-The-Door There is a certain castle that is beautiful and fair,
And plants, and birds, and pretty things, fill every room and hall,But alas! for the unhappy folks who make their dwelling there,
300. Time Enough I know it is early morning,
And hope is calling aloud, And your heart is afire with Youthâ??s desire
Total 702 poems written by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Poem of the day
The Dome Of Sunday by Karl Shapiro
With focus sharp as Flemish-painted face
In film of varnish brightly fixed
And through a polished hand-lens deeply seen,
Sunday at noon through hyaline thin air
Sees down the street,
And in the camera of my eye depicts
Row-houses and row-lives:
Glass after glass, door after door the same,
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