Marc Chagall

Lovers and Flowers

It has ever been since time began,

And ever will be, till time lose breath,

That love is a mood --no more -- to man,

And love to a woman is life or death.

~ Ella Wheeler Wilcox ~

The Winds of Fate

Pablo Picasso

Child With a Dove

The Winds of Fate

One ship drives East, and another drives West,
With the self-same winds that blow;
Tis the set of the sails, and not the gales,
Which tells us the way to go.

Like the winds of the sea are the ways of fate,
As we voyage along through life;
Tis the set of the soul that decides its goal,
And not the calm or the strife.

~ Ella Wheeler Wilcox ~

The World's Need

Vincent Van Gogh

Flower Beds in Holland

The World's Need

So many gods, so many creeds,

So many paths that wind and wind,

While just the art of being kind,

Is all the sad world needs.

~ Ella Wheeler Wilcox ~

Solitude

Edvard Munch

Eve on Karl Johan

Solitude

Laugh, and the world laughs with you;

Weep, and you weep alone.

For the sad old earth must borrow it's mirth,

But has trouble enough of it's own.

Sing, and the hills will answer;

Sigh, it is lost on the air.

The echoes bound to a joyful sound,

But shrink from voicing care.

Rejoice, and men will seek you;

Grieve, and they turn and go.

They want full measure of all your pleasure,

But they do not need your woe.

Be glad, and your friends are many;

Be sad, and you lose them all.

There are none to decline your nectared wine,

But alone you must drink life's gall.

Feast, and your halls are crowded;

Fast, and the world goes by.

Succeed and give, and it helps you live,

But no man can help you die.

There is room in the halls of pleasure

For a long and lordly train,

But one by one we must all file on

Through the narrow aisles of pain.

~ Ella Wheeler Wilcox ~

Life's Harmonies

Ferdinand Hodler

Emotion

Life's Harmonies

Let no man pray that he know not sorrow,

Let no soul ask to be free from pain,

For the gall of to-day is the sweet of to-morrow,

And the moment's loss is the lifetime's gain.

Through want of a thing does its worth redouble,

Through hunger's pangs does the feast content,

And only the heart that has harbored trouble,

Can fully rejoice when joy is sent.

Let no man shrink from the bitter tonics

Of grief, and yearning, and need, and strife,

For the rarest chords in the soul's harmonies,

Are found in the minor strains of life.

~ Ella Wheeler Wilcox ~