Poems of Power | Page 3

Ella Wheeler Wilcox
column,
Bearing the dead to the burial plain
With a reverence grand as solemn.
ILLUSION
God and I in space alone
And nobody else in view.
"And where are the people, O Lord," I said,

"The earth below, and the sky o'er head,
And the dead whom once I knew?"
"That was a dream," God smiled and said -
"A dream that seemed to be true.
There were no people, living or
dead,
There was no earth, and no sky o'erhead;
There was only Myself--in you."
"Why do I feel no fear," I asked,

"Meeting You here this way?
For I have sinned I know full well?

And is there heaven, and is there hell,
And is this the judgment day?"
"Say, those were but dreams," the Great God said,
"Dreams, that have ceased to be.
There are no such things as fear or
sin,
There is no you--you never have been -
There is nothing at all but ME."
ASSERTION
I am serenity. Though passions beat
Like mighty billows on my helpless heart,
I know beyond them lies
the perfect sweet
Serenity, which patience can impart.
And when wild tempests in my
bosom rage,
"Peace, peace," I cry, "it is my heritage."
I am good health. Though fevers rack my brain
And rude disorders mutilate my strength,
A perfect restoration after
pain,
I know shall be my recompense at length.
And so through grievous
day and sleepless night,
"Health, health," I cry, "it is my own by
right."
I am success. Though hungry, cold, ill-clad,
I wander for awhile, I smile and say,
"It is but for a time--I shall be
glad
To-morrow, for good fortune comes my way.
God is my father, He

has wealth untold,
His wealth is mine, health, happiness, and gold."
I AM
I know not whence I came,
I know not whither I go;
But the fact stands clear that I am here
In this world of pleasure and woe.
And out of the mist and murk
Another truth shines plain -
It is my power each day and hour
To add to its joy or its pain.
I know that the earth exists,
It is none of my business why;
I cannot find out what it's all about,
I would but waste time to try.
My life is a brief, brief thing,
I am here for a little space,
And while I stay I would like, if I may,
To brighten and better the place.
The trouble, I think, with us all
Is the lack of a high conceit.
If each man thought he was sent to this
spot
To make it a bit more sweet,
How soon we could gladden the world,
How easily right all wrong,
If nobody shirked, and each one worked
To help his fellows along!
Cease wondering why you came -
Stop looking for faults and flaws;
Rise up to-day in your pride and

say,
"I am part of the First Great Cause!
However full the world,
There is room for an earnest man.
It had need of me, or I would not
be -
I am here to strengthen the plan."
WISHING
Do you wish the world were better?
Let me tell you what to do:
Set a watch upon your actions,
Keep them always straight and true;
Rid your mind of selfish
motives;
Let your thoughts be clean and high.
You can make a little Eden
Of the sphere you occupy.
Do you wish the world were wiser?
Well, suppose you make a start,
By accumulating wisdom
In the scrapbook of your heart:
Do not waste one page on folly;
Live to learn, and learn to live.
If you want to give men knowledge
You must get it, ere you give.
Do you wish the world were happy?
Then remember day by day
Just to scatter seeds of kindness
As you pass along the way;
For the pleasures of the many

May be ofttimes traced to one,
As the hand that plants an acorn
Shelters armies from the sun.
WE TWO
We two make home of any place we go;
We two find joy in any kind
of weather;
Or if the earth is clothed in bloom or snow,
If summer days invite, or
bleak winds blow,
What matters it if we two are together?
We two,
we two, we make our world, our weather.
We two make banquets of the plainest fare;
In every cup we find the
thrill of pleasure;
We hide with wreaths the furrowed brow of care,
And win to smiles
the set lips of despair.
For us life always moves with lilting measure;

We two, we two, we make our world, our pleasure.
We two find youth renewed with every dawn;
Each day holds
something of an unknown glory.
We waste no thought on grief or pleasure gone;
Tricked out like hope,
time leads us on and on,
And thrums upon his harp new song or story.

We two, we two, we find the paths of glory.
We two make heaven here on this little earth;
We do not need to wait
for realms eternal.
We know
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