Poem “My Comrade” by Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Poems of reflection

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American Literature – American Poetry – Ella Wheeler Wilcox – Poems by Ella Wheeler Wilcox – Poems of reflection
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My Comrade

Out from my window westward
  I turn full oft my face;
But the mountains rebuke the vision
  That would encompass space;
They lift their lofty foreheads
  To the kiss of the clouds above,
And ask, “With all our glory,
  Can we not win your love?”

I answer, “No, oh mountains!
  I see that you are grand;
But you have not the breadth and beauty
  Of the fields in my own land;
You narrow my range of vision
  And you even shut from me
The voice of my old comrade,
  The West Wind wild and free.”

But to-day I climbed the mountains
  On the back of a snow-white steed,
And the West Wind came to greet me–
  He flew on the wings of speed.
His charger, and mine that bore me,
  Went gaily neck to neck.
Till the town in the valley below us
  Looked like a small, dark speck.

And oh! what tales he whispered
  As he rode there by me,
Of friends whose smiling faces
  I am so soon to see.
And the mountains frowned in anger,
  Because I balked their spite,
And met my old-time comrade
  There on their very height;

But I laughed up in their faces,
As I rode slowly back,
While the Wind went faster and faster,
Like a race-horse on the track.

< < < The Room Beneath the Rafters
At An Old Drawer > > >

American Literature – American Poetry – Ella Wheeler Wilcox – Poems by Ella Wheeler Wilcox – Poems of reflection

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Poems of reflection

My Comrade

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