Poems of Power

The Project Gutenberg EBook of Poems of Power, by Ella Wheeler Wilcox (#12 in our series by Ella Wheeler Wilcox)
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Title: Poems of Power
Author: Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Release Date: October, 2004 [EBook #6667]?[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule]?[This file was first posted on January 10, 2003]
Edition: 10
Language: English
Character set encoding: ASCII
? START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, POEMS OF POWER ***
Transcribed from the 1918 Gay and Hancock edition by David Price, email [email protected]
POEMS OF POWER
Contents:
Note?The Queen's last ride?The Meeting of the Centuries?Death has Crowned him a Martyr?Grief?Illusion?Assertion?I Am?Wishing?We two?The Poet's Theme?Song of the Spirit?Womanhood?Morning Prayer?The Voices of the People?The World grows Better?A Man's Ideal?The Fire Brigade?The Tides?When the Regiment came back?Woman to Man?The Traveller?The Earth?Now?You and To-day?The Reason?Mission?Repetition?Begin the Day?Words?Fate and I?Attainment?A Plea to Peace?Presumption?High Noon?Thought-magnets?Smiles?The Undiscovered Country?The Universal Route?Unanswered Prayers?Thanksgiving?Contrasts?Thy Ship?Life?A Marine Etching?"Love Thyself Last"?Christmas Fancies?The River?Sorry?Ambition's trail?Uncontrolled?Will?To an Astrologer?The Tendril's Fate?The Times?The Question?Sorrow's Uses?If?Which are you??The Creed to be?Inspiration?The Wish?Three Friends?You never can tell?Here and now?Unconquered?All that love asks?"Does it pay?"?Sestina?The Optimist?The Pessimist?An Inspiration?Life's Harmonies?Preparation?Gethsemane?God's Measure?Noblesse Oblige?Through Tears?What we Need?Plea to Science?Respite?Song?My Ships?Her Love?If?Love's burial?"Love is enough"?Life is a Privilege?Insight?A Woman's Answer?The World's Need
NOTE
The final word in the title of this volume refers to the DIVINE POWER in every human being, the recognition of which is the secret to all success and happiness. It is this idea which many of the verses endeavour to illustrate.
E. W. W.
THE QUEEN'S LAST RIDE?(Written on the day of Queen Victoria's funeral)
The Queen is taking a drive to-day,?They have hung with purple the carriage-way,?They have dressed with purple the royal track?Where the Queen goes forth and never comes back.
Let no man labour as she goes by?On her last appearance to mortal eye:?With heads uncovered let all men wait?For the Queen to pass, in her regal state.
Army and Navy shall lead the way?For that wonderful coach of the Queen's to-day.?Kings and Princes and Lords of the land?Shall ride behind her, a humble band;?And over the city and over the world?Shall the Flags of all Nations be half-mast-furled,?For the silent lady of royal birth?Who is riding away from the Courts of earth,?Riding away from the world's unrest?To a mystical goal, on a secret quest.
Though in royal splendour she drives through town,?Her robes are simple, she wears no crown:?And yet she wears one, for, widowed no more,?She is crowned with the love that has gone before,?And crowned with the love she has left behind?In the hidden depths of each mourner's mind.
Bow low your heads--lift your hearts on high -?The Queen in silence is driving by!
THE MEETING OF THE CENTURIES
A curious vision on mine eyes unfurled
In the deep night. I saw, or seemed to see,?Two Centuries meet, and sit down vis-a-vis?Across the great round table of the world:?One with suggested sorrows in his mien,
And on his brow the furrowed lines of thought;?And one whose glad expectant presence brought?A glow and radiance from the realms unseen.
Hand clasped with hand, in silence for a space
The Centuries sat; the sad old eyes of one?(As grave paternal eyes regard a son)?Gazing upon that other eager face.?And then a voice, as cadenceless and gray
As the sea's monody in winter time,?Mingled with tones melodious, as the chime?Of bird choirs, singing in the dawns of May.
THE OLD CENTURY SPEAKS
By you, Hope stands. With me, Experience walks.?Like a fair jewel in a faded box,?In my tear-rusted heart, sweet Pity lies.?For all the dreams that look forth from your eyes,?And those bright-hued ambitions, which I know?Must fall like leaves and perish, in Time's snow,?(Even as my soul's garden stands bereft,)?I give you pity! 'tis the one gift left.
THE NEW CENTURY
Nay, nay, good friend! not pity, but Godspeed,?Here in the morning of my life I need.?Counsel, and not condolence; smiles, not tears,?To guide me through the channels of the years.?Oh, I am blinded by the blaze of light?That shines upon me from the Infinite.?Blurred is my vision by the close approach?To unseen shores, whereon the times encroach.
THE OLD CENTURY
Illusion, all illusion. List and hear?The Godless cannons, booming far