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    Poems of Purpose
    Poems of Purpose
    Poems of Purpose
    Ebook106 pages59 minutes

    Poems of Purpose

    By Ella Wheeler Wilcox

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    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherArchive Classics
    Release dateJan 1, 2004

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      Book preview

      Poems of Purpose - Ella Wheeler Wilcox

      Poems of Purpose, by Ella Wheeler Wilcox

      The Project Gutenberg EBook of Poems of Purpose, by Ella Wheeler Wilcox

      (#10 in our series by Ella Wheeler Wilcox)

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      **Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts**

      **eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971**

      *****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!*****

      Title: Poems of Purpose

      Author: Ella Wheeler Wilcox

      Release Date: October, 2004 [EBook #6618]

      [Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule]

      [This file was first posted on December 31, 2002]

      Edition: 10

      Language: English

      Transcribed from the 1919 Gay and Hancock edition by David Price, email ccx074@coventry.ac.uk

      POEMS OF PURPOSE

      Contents:

         A Good Sport

         A Son Speaks

         The Younger Born

         Happiness

         Seeking for Happiness

         The Island of Endless Play

         The River of Sleep

         The Things that Count

         Limitless

         What They Saw

         The Convention

         Protest

         A Bachelor to a Married Flirt

         The Superwoman

         Certitude

         Compassion

         Love

         Three Souls

         When Love is Lost

         Occupation

         The Valley of Fear

         What would it be?

         America

         War Mothers

         A Holiday

         The Undertone

         Gypsying

         Song of the Road

         The Faith we Need

         The Price he Paid

         Divorced

         The Revealing Angels

         The Well-born

         Sisters of Mine

         Answer

         The Graduates

         The Silent Tragedy

         The Trinity

         The Unwed Mother to the Wife

         Father and Son

         Husks

         Meditations

         The Traveller

         What Have You Done?

      A GOOD SPORT

      I was a little lad, and the older boys called to me from the pier:

      They called to me: ‘Be a sport: be a sport!  Leap in and swim!’

      I leaped in and swam, though I had never been taught a stroke.

      Then I was made a hero, and they all shouted:

         ‘Well done!  Well done,

      Brave boy, you are a sport, a good sport!’

      And I was very glad.

      But now I wish I had learned to swim the right way,

         Or had never learned at all.

      Now I regret that day,

         For it led to my fall.

      I was a youth, and I heard the older men talking of the road to wealth;

      They talked of bulls and bears, of buying on margins,

      And they said, ‘Be a sport, my boy, plunge in and win or lose it all!

      It is the only way to fortune.’

      So I plunged in and won; and the older men patted me on the back,

      And they said, ‘You are a sport, my boy, a good sport!’

      And I was very glad.

      But now I wish I had lost all I ventured on that day -

         Yes, wish I had lost it all.

      For it was the wrong way,

         And pushed me to my fall.

      I was a young man, and the gay world called me to come;

      Gay women and gay men called to me, crying:

         ‘Be a sport; be a good sport!

      Fill our glasses and let us fill yours.

      We are young but once; let us dance and sing,

      And drive the dull hours of night until they stand at bay

      Against the shining bayonets of day.’

      So I filled my glass, and I filled their glasses, over and over again,

      And I sang and danced and drank, and drank and danced and sang,

      And I heard them cry, ‘He is a sport, a good sport!’

      As they held their glasses out to be filled again.

      And I was very glad.

      Oh the madness of youth and song and dance and wine,

      Of woman’s eyes and lips, when the night dies in the arms of dawn!

      And now I wish I had not gone that way.

      Now I wish I had not heard them say,

      ‘He is a sport, a good sport!’

      For I am old who should be young.

      The splendid vigour of my youth I flung

      Under the feet of a mad, unthinking throng.

      My strength went out with wine and dance and song;

      Unto the winds of earth I tossed like chaff,

      With idle jest and laugh,

      The pride of splendid manhood, all its wealth

      Of unused power and health -

      Its dream of looking into some pure girl’s eyes

      And finding there its earthly paradise -

      Its hope of virile children free from blight -

      Its thoughts of climbing to some noble height

      Of great achievement - all these gifts divine

      I cast away for song and

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