by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Midway upon the route, he paused athirst
And suddenly across the wastes of heat,
He saw cool waters gleaming, and a sweet
Green oasis upon his vision burst.
A tender dream, long in his bosom nursed,
Spread love’s illusive verdure for his feet;
The barren sands changed into golden wheat;
The way grew glad that late had seemed accursed.
She shone, the woman wonder, on his soul;
The garden spot, for which men toil and wait;
The house of rest, that is each heart’s demand;
But when, at last, he reached the gleaming goal,
He found, oh, cruel irony of fate,
But desert sun upon the desert sand.
|from Poems of Progress and New Thought Pastels by Ella Wheeler Wilcox (1913)|
|The Land Between||The Need of the World|