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Happy New Year to
everyone!
This month, of course, I've
focused on Ella's New Years poems and quotes. She
certainly had a way of putting the past to rest and focusing on the joyful
future to come. But first, here are some new items from other members.
 This
contribution was sent in by Sandra Stelts from Pennsylvania State University
Library. She found this card at the
Bata
Shoe Museum in Toronto, Canada, and was kind enough to send it to me
for our collection.
The quote is from the chapter "Old
Clothes" from Ella's The
Heart of the New Thought. Design by Quotable Cards, Inc. "Quote
taken from Instant Quotation Dictionary." c. 1984 by Career Publishing,
Inc. Photograph by Taryn Simon.
It appears that Ella's quotes
still appeal to "modern" society.
This copy of "The Eternal Will"
was published in a Chicago Newspaper (most likely the Chicago Evening American)
in an unknown Sunday issue. Thanks to Karen Iacobbo for sending it along
for our collection.
As Ella wrote in Every-day
Thoughts in Prose and Verse: "One of the best New Year resolutions
you can make is to utilize the days, or, rather, the moments comprising
the days, in a wise manner. It is wonderful what can be accomplished if
we do not fritter away time--that most precious possession which belongs
to all men equally, and upon which no trust or syndicate can obtain a 'corner'."
Thanks to everyone who has spent their time to making The Ella Wheeler
Wilcox Society a valued and respected resource worldwide.
I hope you enjoy this issue of the
newsletter. Feel free to send submissions of material or feedback about
the newsletter to me at richedwards@earthlink.net
 Rich
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This
month in Ella's life: |
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 January
23,1849
Eunice Hosford, Ella's Grandmother
Born March 31, 1767
Married to Amos Wheeler on August 20, 1788 in Thetford, Vermont.
Died January 23, 1849 in Thetford,Vermont. |
 January
1871
Ella wrote the poem "One
Woman's Plea" pleading with legislators for temperance laws. It would
appear in print in her book Shells
in 1873. Prohibition would not be enacted until 1919. |
January 8, 1875
Ella read "A
Poem" in front of the Saint Andrew's Society (Scottish Fraternal Organization).
The poem later appeared in her book Maurine
in 1876. |
January 30, 1876
Ella writes to Arthur
O'Shaughnessy (the British poet) in which she replies to his last letter
from Paris and mentions her forthcoming book, Maurine.
She gushed "I have been reading in your Music and Moonlight this evening:
I read 'We are the
music makers'---and was vain enough to class myself among the 'we'
and felt the truth and beauty of it all. We live, I do believe, more
in one day, than many of our readers live in all their lives." Ella
was many things, but modest was seldom one of them.
She goes on to describe her social life:
"I fear, spend more time than I ought at balls, theaters, operas &
c. But one
can be young but once--and we women
are young so short a time, it behooves us to make the most of the brief
hour."
And then she goes on to flirt with him,
writing: "My thoughts of a passionate theme. I wonder if I will ever
see you, and read them with you!" and "I enclose a very correct photo for
you, and await yours anxiously. I have brown hair-- with red lights in
it--brown eyes, and light complexion. 5 feet 3, and weigh 128
lbs. Now don't you think you would know me, if we met
in London, unexpectedly? Send me your picture soon." She was 26 years
old at the time.
The complete letter is on our web site at
http://192.211.16.13/individuals/edwardsr/ella/letters/76130.htm |
January 19, 1894
She was staying at the Westminster Hotel, Irving Place & 16th St.,
New York City when she wrote a letter to a Mr. Bok. |
 January
24, 1899
Marcus Hartwell Wheeler, Ella's Father
Born July 14, 1808 in Thetford, Vermont
Married to Sarah Pratt on May 22, 1836 in Thetford, Vermont
Died January 24, 1899 in Westport, Wisconsin. |
January 18, 1902
While staying at 105 East Fifteenth Street, New York City, she wrote
a letter to a Mr. Clemens. |
 January
15, 1917
She was staying at 1756 Wilton Place, Hollywood, CA, where she wrote
to a Miss Mason.
In that letter she talked about her activities after the death of her
dear husband, Robert, who died in May 1916.
"I have come to see that just so much suffering is a part of the evolution
of the race to something higher, and if I in my daily environment, do as
I would be done by, accomplish every duty placed before me as well as I
know how, return good for evil, etc. that my time will be wholly occupied
for the remainder of my time on earth, without taking part in the large
reforms. The time which I gave to bothering myself about many of
those subjects, I am going to give now to Study, Meditation, Prayer, and
Psychical Research. I am giving from two to four hours a day to the
study of the Harp, as my beloved would want me to, I know; and I have written
nine poems for publication in the last two months. I am doing all
I can with thought, affection, and money, to assist those who were dear
to my husband, and others who are more or less dependent upon my care.
I think each one of us must work out our own life problems, in our own."
The complete letter is on our web site at
http://192.211.16.13/individuals/edwardsr/ella/letters/1917115.htm |
January 25, 1918
She was staying at the Hotel Belmont, 42nd St. at Park Avenue, New
York City |
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Poems: |
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NEW YEAR
New Year, I look straight in
your eyes,
Our ways and our interests
blend,
You may be a foe in disguise
But I shall believe you a friend.
We get what we give in our
measure,
We cannot give pain and get
pleasure,
I give you good will and good
cheer
And you must return it, New
Year.
We get what we give in this
life,
Though often the giver indeed
Waits long upon doubting and
strife
Ere proving the truth of my
Creed.
But somewhere, someway, and
forever
Reward is the meed of endeavor--
And if I am really worth while,
New Year, you will give me
your smile.
You hide in your mystical hand
No "luck" that I cannot control,
If I trust my own courage and
stand
On the Infinite strength of
my soul.
Man holds in his brain and
his spirit
A power that is God-like, or
near it,
And he who has measured his
force
Can govern events and their
course.
You come with a crown on your
brow,
New Year, without blemish or
spot.
Yet you, and not I, sir, must
bow,
For time is the servant of
thought.
Whatever you bring me of trouble
Shall turn into good and then
double.
If my spirit looks up without
fear
To the Source that you came
from, New Year.
Poems
of sentiment by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Chicago, IL : W. B. Conkey Company, c1906. |
NEW YEAR RESOLVE
As the dead year is clasped by a dead December,
So let your dead sins with
your dead days lie.
A new life is yours and a new hope. Remember
We build our own ladders to
climb to the sky.
Stand out in the sunlight of promise, forgetting
Whatever the past held of sorrow
and wrong.
We waste half our strength in a useless
regretting;
We sit by old tombs in the
dark too long.
Have you missed in your aim? Well,
the mark is still shining.
Did you faint in the race?
Well, take breath for the next.
Did the clouds drive you back? But
see yonder their lining.
Were you tempted and fell?
Let it serve for a text.
As each year hurries by, let it join that
procession
Of skeleton shapes that march
down to the past
While you take your place in the line of
progression,
With your eyes to the heavens,
your face to the blast.
I tell you the future can hold no terrors
For any sad soul while the
stars revolve,
If he will stand firm on the grave of his
errors,
And instead of regretting--resolve,
resolve!
It is never too late to begin rebuilding,
Though all into ruins your
life seems hurled;
For see! how the light of the New Year is
gilding
The wan, worn face of the bruised
old world.
Kingdom
of Love and How Salvator Won
by Ella Wheeler Wilcox.
Chicago, W.B. Conkey company [1902]. |
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NEW YEAR
I saw on the hills of the morning,
The form of the New Year arise,
He stood like a statue adorning
The world with a background of skies.
There were courage and grace in his beautiful face,
And hope in his glorious eyes.
"I come from Time's boundless forever,"
He said, with a voice like a song,
"I come as a friend to endeavour,
I come as a foe to all wrong.
To the sad and afraid I bring promise of aid,
And the weak I will gird and make strong.
"I bring you more blessings than terrors,
I bring you more sunlight than gloom,
I tear out your page of old errors,
And hide them away in Time's tomb.
I reach you clean hands, and lead on to the lands
Where the lilies of peace are in bloom."
Poetical
works of Ella Wheeler Wilcox.
by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Edinburgh : W. P. Nimmo, Hay, & Mitchell, 1917. |
NEW YEAR
As the old year sinks down in Time's ocean,
Stand ready to launch with the new,
And waste no regrets, no emotion,
As the masts and the spars pass from
view.
Weep not if some treasures go under,
And sink in the rotten ship's hold,
That blithe bonny barque sailing yonder
May bring you more wealth than the old.
For the world is for ever improving,
All the past is not worth one to-day,
And whatever deserves our true loving,
Is stronger than death or decay.
Old love, was it wasted devotion?
Old friends, were they weak or untrue?
Well, let them sink there in mid-ocean,
And gaily sail on to the new.
Throw overboard toil misdirected,
Throw overboard ill-advised hope,
With aims which, your soul has detected,
Have self as their centre and scope.
Throw overboard useless regretting
For deeds which you cannot undo,
And learn the great art of forgetting
Old things which embitter the new.
Sing who will of dead years departed,
I shroud them and bid them adieu,
And the song that I sing, happy-hearted,
Is a song of the glorious new.
Poetical
works of Ella Wheeler Wilcox.
by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Edinburgh : W. P. Nimmo, Hay, & Mitchell, 1917. |
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Prose: |
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NEW YEAR
Mortal:
'The night is cold, the
hour is late, the world is bleak and drear;
'Who is it knocking at my
door?'
The New Year:
'I am Good Cheer.'
Mortal:
'Your voice is strange;
I know you not; in shadows dark I grope.
What seek you here?'
The New Year:
'Friend, let me in; my name
is Hope.'
Mortal:
'And mine is Failure; you
but mock the life you seek to bless.
Pass on.'
The New Year:
'Nay, open wide the door;
I am Success.'
Mortal:
'But I am ill and spent
with pain; too late has come your wealth.
I cannot use it.'
The New Year:
'Listen, friend; I am Good
Health.'
Mortal:
'Now, wide I fling my door.
Come in, and your fair statements prove.'
The New Year:
'But you must open, too,
your heart, for I am Love.'
Poems
of Progress and New Thought Pastels
by Ella Wheeler Wilcox.
London: Gay & Hancock, 1911.
Let the Past Go.
Do not begin the new year
by recounting to yourself or others all your losses and sorrows.
Let the past go.
Should some good friend
present you with material for a lovely garment, would you insult her by
throwing it aside and describing the beautiful garments you had worn out
in past times?
The new year has given you the fabric for a fresh
start in life,why dwell upon the events which have gone, the joys, blessings
and advantages of the past!
Do not tell me it is too late to be successful or
happy. Do not tell me you are sick or broken in spirit, the spirit
cannot be sick or broken, because it is of God.
It is your mind which makes your body sick. Let
the spirit assert itself and demand health and hope and happiness in this
new year.
Forget the money you have lost, the mistakes you
have made, the injuries you have
received, the disappointments you have experienced.
Real sorrow the sorrow which comes from the death
of dear ones, or some great cross well borne, you need not forget.
But think of these things as sent to enrich your nature, and to make you
more human and sympathetic. You are missing them if you permit yourself
instead to grow melancholy and irritable.
It is weak and unreasonable to imagine destiny has
selected you for special suffering.
Sorrow is no respector of persons. Say to
yourself with the beginning of this year that you are going to consider
all your troubles as an education for your mind and soul; and that out
of the experiences which you have passed through you are going to build
a noble and splendid character, and a successful career.
Do not tell me you are too old.
Age is all imagination. Ignore years and they
will ignore you.
Eat moderately, and bathe freely in water as cold
as nature's rainfall. Exercise thoroughly and regularly.
Be alive, from crown to toe. Breathe deeply,
filling every cell of the lungs for at least five minutes, morning and
night, and when you draw in long, full breaths, believe you are inhaling
helth, wisdom and success.
Anticipate good health. If it does not come
at once, consider it a mere temporary delay, and continue to expect it.
Regard any physical ailment as a passing inconvenience,
no more.
Never for an instant believe you are permanently
ill or disabled.
The young men of France are studying alchemy, hoping
to learn the secret which
shall give you whatever you desire.
Think of your body as the silver jewel box, your
mind as the silk lining, your spirit as the gem. Keep the box burnished
and clear of dust, but remember always that the jewel within is the precious
part of it.
Think of yourself as on the threshold of unparralleled
success. A whole, clear, glorious year lies before you! In
a year you can regain health, fortune, restfulness, happiness!
Push on! Achieve, achieve!
The
Heart of the New Thought. by Ella Wheeler Wilcox.
Chicago : The Psychic Research Company, c1902.
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