'Tis they who are in their own chambers haunted By thoughts that like unbidden guests intrude, And sit down, uninvited and unwanted, And make a nightmare of the solitude.
Ella Wheeler WilcoxWiped the cold dew-drops from his cheek And sought the mourner's side again. "Once more, dear lady, I must speak: Your last remaining son was slain Just at the closing of the fight; Twas he who sent me here to-night." "God knows," the man said afterward, "The fight itself was not so hard."
Ella Wheeler WilcoxTalk happiness. The world is sad enough without your woe. No path is wholly rough.
Ella Wheeler Wilcox