Ella Wheeler Wilcox Poems

I: BLIND

When first the shadows fell, like prison bars,
And darkness spread before me, like a pall,
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'He that hath an ear, let him hear what the Spirit saith unto the churches.'-

St. John the Divine.
The Spirit says unto the churches,
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Hers was a lonely, shadowed lot;
Or so the unperceiving thought,
Who looked no deeper than her face,
Devoid of chiselled lines of grace –
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Who is a Christian in this Christian land
Of many churches and of lofty spires?
Not he who sits in soft upholstered pews
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You do but jest, sir, and you jest not well,
How could the hand be enemy of the arm,
Or seed and sod be rivals! How could light
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You may thrill with the speed of your thoroughbred steed,
You may laugh with delight as you ride the ocean,
You may rush afar in your touring car,
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Because of the fullness of what I had,
All that I have seems poor and vain.
If I had not been happy, I were not sad--
Tho' my salt is savorless, why complain?
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‘Twas just a slight flirtation,
And where’s the harm, I pray,
In that amusing pastime
So much in vogue to-day?
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Ho! ho! Father Death! I have won you another!
Another grand soul I have ruined and taken;
I, who am licensed by good Christian people,
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The Radiant Ruler of Mystic Regions
Where souls of artists are fitted for birth,
Gathered together their lovely legions
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