Poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Sonnets of Sorrow. 17. I who have sung so loud of God's great power

I who have sung so loud of God's great power,
I who have loved Him with unswerving love,
Cry vainly now, hour after torturing hour,
And no response comes from those planes above.
I deemed myself a joyous instrument
Finite in form but infinite in scope;
In life's grand orchestra my tones were blent
Ever in strains of gratitude and hope.

Now as a harp all broken and unstrung
Of which the Heavenly Players have grown weary
And carelessly upon the highway flung
Where vagrant winds may sing a miserere,
I lie with all the music in my dumb, . . .
Oh, great Repairer and Attuner, come!

1. The Birth of the Orchid
2. The Call (All wantonly in hours of joy)
3. Be Not Attached
4. Behold the Earth
5. The Black Charger

Print

1348 Views

Last Poems

To Russian version