BLACK CAT POEMS
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Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Quite carelessly I turned the newsy sheet;
A song I sang, full many a year ago,
Smiled up at me, as in a busy street
One meets an old-time friend he used to know.
So full it was, that simple little song,
Of all the hope, the transport, and the
Which to the impetuous morn of life belong,
That, once again, I seemed to grasp my
So full it was of that sweet fancied pain
We woo and cherish ere we meet with woe.
I felt, as one who hears a plaintive strain
His mother sang him in the long ago.
Up from the grave, the years that lay between
That song's birthday and my stern present, came
Like phantom forms, and swept across the scene,
Bearing their broken dreams of
Fair hopes and bright ambitions that I knew
In that old time, with their ideal grace,
Shone for a moment, then were lost to view,
Behind the dull clouds of the commonplace.
With trembling hands I put the sheet away;
Ah, little song! the sad and bitter truth
Struck like an arrow when we met that day!
My life has missed the promise of its youth.
poems by Ella Wheeler Wilcox