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Poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox Weather-Vanes When fierce temptations lure the brave and strong To wander into ways they know are wrong, The Lords of Wisdom (God's high Cabinet) Commune together, saying with regret, 'Great natures by great sins are oft beset; Through suffering they shall their lesson learn, And wiser, back to nobler lives return.' But Angels feel a deeper sorrow when The weak unfocused wills of unworthy men, Like weather-vanes, turn, on each wayward breeze Some selfish, peevish woman's whim to please. Have you not seen the husband or the son, Bound by the ties of law or blood to one Of those self-centred creatures, losing sight Of his fine sense of justice and of right-- That sense God gives to lead the race to light? Forced all against the instincts of his heart In petty bickerings to take a part, Or driven by whining words and stabs and stings To show approval of ignoble things. His high ideals of honour overthrown By lower aims of 'standing by his own,' However wrong or foolish or unkind His own might be? Such women drag and bind The better nature of a man, and blind His eyes to visions of the Christ within. A larger hope shines for a larger sin Through sorrow or repentance, soon or late. But these anæmic souls disintegrate. The weather-vane, when winds have ceased to blow, Rots on the roof-tree, lacking strength to go Or here, or there, or upward, or below. Strong thoughts build heavens and hells; and from the fire-- The self-created flames of wrong desire-- Repentant souls rise up to regions higher. But he whose will is by another slain Has built no heaven to which he can attain. Ella Wheeler Wilcox Ella Wheeler Wilcox's other poems:
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