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Poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox


I see the tall church steeples, 
They reach so far, so far, 
But the eyes of my heart see the worlds great mart, 
Where the starving people are.

I hear the church bells ringing
Their chimes on the morning air; 
But my souls sad ear is hurt to hear
The poor mans cry of despair.

Thicker and thicker the churches, 
Nearer and nearer the sky 
But alack for their creeds while the poor mans needs
Grow deeper as years roll by.

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Ella Wheeler Wilcox's other poems:
  1. The Birth of the Opal
  2. The Awakening (I love the tropics, where sun and rain)
  3. The Chain
  4. The Coming Man
  5. At Forty-Eight

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