Poems by Ella Wheeler Wilcox | Poetree

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At an Old Drawer

At an Old Drawer

Before this scarf was faded,

What hours of mirth it knew;

How gayly it paraded

From smiling eyes to view.

The days were tinged with glory,

The nights too quickly sped,

And life was like a story

Where all the people wed.

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by Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Ad Finem

Ad Finem

On the white throat of useless passion

That scorched my soul with its burning breath

I clutched my hands in murderous fashion,

And held them close in a grip of death;

For why should I fan, or feed with fuel,

A love that showed me but blank despair ?

So my hold was firm, and my grasp was cruel—-

I meant to strangle it then and there!

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by Ella Wheeler Wilcox