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- Herausgeber: DigiCat
- Kategorie: Sachliteratur, Reportagen, Biografien
- Sprache: Englisch
- Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2022
Ella Wheeler Wilcox's 'Poems of Sentiment' is a collection of emotive and introspective poetry that delves into the complexities of human emotions and relationships. Written in a lyrical and flowing style, Wilcox's poems evoke a sense of empathy and deep connection with the reader. The themes of love, loss, and resilience are prevalent throughout the book, creating a poignant literary experience for those who appreciate sentimental poetry. Set against the backdrop of the late 19th and early 20th centuries, Wilcox's work stands out for its ability to capture the universal experiences of the human heart. Ella Wheeler Wilcox, a prolific American poet and author, drew inspiration from her own life experiences to create 'Poems of Sentiment.' Her keen observations of human nature and her empathic understanding of emotional nuances are reflected in her work. Wilcox's ability to articulate the complexities of the human soul earned her a respected place in the literary world. For readers who enjoy poetry that tugs at the heartstrings and offers solace in times of emotional turmoil, 'Poems of Sentiment' by Ella Wheeler Wilcox is a must-read. Wilcox's profound insights and exquisite language make this collection a timeless treasure for lovers of sentimental verse.
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Poems of Sentiment
Table of Contents
DOUBLE CARNATIONS
A wild Pink nestled in a garden bed, A rich Carnation flourished high above her, One day he chanced to see her pretty head And leaned and looked again, and grew to love her.
The Moss (her humble mother) saw with fear The ardent glances of the princely stranger; With many an anxious thought and dewy tear She sought to hide her darling from this danger.
The gardener-guardian of this noble bud A cruel trellis interposed between them. No common Pink should mate with royal blood, He said, and sought in every way to wean them.
The poor Pink pined and faded day by day: Her restless lover from his prison bower Called in a priestly bee who passed that way, And sent a message to the sorrowing flower.
The fainting Pink wept as the bee drew near, Droning his prayers, and begged him to confess her. Her weary mother, over-taxed by fear, Slept, while the priest leaned low to shrive and bless her.
But lo! ere long the tale went creeping out, The rich Carnation and the Pink were married! The cunning bee had brought the thing about While Mamma Moss in Slumber’s arms had tarried.
And proud descendants of that loving pair, The offspring of that true and ardent passion, Are famous for their beauty everywhere, And leaders in the floral world of fashion.
NEVER MIND
Whatever your work and whatever its worth, No matter how strong or clever, Some one will sneer if you pause to hear, And scoff at your best endeavour. For the target art has a broad expanse, And wherever you chance to hit it, Though close be your aim to the bull’s-eye fame, There are those who will never admit it.
Though the house applauds while the artist plays, And a smiling world adores him, Somebody is there with an ennuied air To say that the acting bores him. For the tower of art has a lofty spire, With many a stair and landing, And those who climb seem small oft-time To one at the bottom standing.
So work along in your chosen niche With a steady purpose to nerve you; Let nothing men say who pass your way Relax your courage or swerve you. The idle will flock by the Temple of Art For just the pleasure of gazing; But climb to the top and do not stop, Though they may not all be praising.
TWO WOMEN
I know two women, and one is chaste And cold as the snows on a winter waste, Stainless ever in act and thought (As a man, born dumb, in speech errs not). But she has malice toward her kind, A cruel tongue and a jealous mind. Void of pity and full of greed, She judges the world by her narrow creed; A brewer of quarrels, a breeder of hate, Yet she holds the key to “Society’s” Gate.
The other woman, with heart of flame, Went mad for a love that marred her name: And out of the grave of her murdered faith She rose like a soul that has passed through death. Her aims are noble, her pity so broad, It covers the world like the mercy of God. A soother of discord, a healer of woes, Peace follows her footsteps wherever she goes. The worthier life of the two, no doubt, And yet “Society” locks her out.
IT ALL WILL COME OUT RIGHT
Whatever is a cruel wrong, Whatever is unjust, The honest years that speed along Will trample in the dust. In restless youth I railed at fate With all my puny might, But now I know if I but wait It all will come out right.
