Poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox

An East Wind

The glitter of wheels far down the street
   (Ah me, and alack a day.)
And I heard the thud of his horse’s feet
   Beating a roundelay.
And I felt a little song coming, coming
Over my lips as humming, humming,
   I turned my eyes that way.

Somebody passed, who was wont to pause:
   (Ah me, and alack a day.)
He bowed and smiled; yet for some cause
   The mirth went out of my lay.
A wind from the east rose, sighing, sighing,
I felt my little song dying, dying,
   She laughed as they rode away.

1. At the Boro Boedoer
2. Sonnets of Sorrow. 18. The wise ones tell me that my heart's wild clamour
3. The Coming Man
4. Ye Agents
5. Geraldine

Print

1818 Views

Last Poems

To Russian version