SpokenVerse | Solitude by Ella Wheeler Wilcox (read by Tom O'Bedlam) @SpokenVerse | Uploaded November 2012 | Updated October 2024, 2 hours ago.
The poem was written in 1883 - Ella got $5 for it.
"The inspiration for the poem came as she was travelling to attend the Governor's inaugural ball in Madison, Wisconsin. On her way to the celebration, there was a young woman dressed in black sitting across the aisle from her. The woman was crying. Miss Wheeler sat next to her and sought to comfort her for the rest of the journey. When they arrived, the poet was so depressed that she could barely attend the scheduled festivities. As she looked at her own radiant face in the mirror, she suddenly recalled the sorrowful widow. It was at that moment that she wrote the opening lines of Solitude."
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ella_Wheeler_Wilcox
I hope her fans will forgive me, but I took the liberty of correcting her grammar in my reading. Okay, that was a bit pedantic. It ought to be "There is none to decline... " Using "none" as plural might be good enough for George Bush but this is literature- and "none" is singular. Think of it as "not one" or "no-one".
My commanding officer once wrote a memo to headquarters saying "None of the men are eligible" and I sent "None of the men is eligible". He wasn't as delighted as I think he should have been.
Ella's only child, Robert Wilcox Junior, was born on May 27, 1887 and he died on the same day.
ellawheelerwilcox.org/Photos/photo5.htm
What a pretty, intelligent, resolute face she had.
Paintings:
Salvador Dalí, Woman at the Window
'Solitude' by Frederic Leighton, 1890
Biblis by William-Adolphe Bouguereau, 1884
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 its 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.
The poem was written in 1883 - Ella got $5 for it.
"The inspiration for the poem came as she was travelling to attend the Governor's inaugural ball in Madison, Wisconsin. On her way to the celebration, there was a young woman dressed in black sitting across the aisle from her. The woman was crying. Miss Wheeler sat next to her and sought to comfort her for the rest of the journey. When they arrived, the poet was so depressed that she could barely attend the scheduled festivities. As she looked at her own radiant face in the mirror, she suddenly recalled the sorrowful widow. It was at that moment that she wrote the opening lines of Solitude."
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ella_Wheeler_Wilcox
I hope her fans will forgive me, but I took the liberty of correcting her grammar in my reading. Okay, that was a bit pedantic. It ought to be "There is none to decline... " Using "none" as plural might be good enough for George Bush but this is literature- and "none" is singular. Think of it as "not one" or "no-one".
My commanding officer once wrote a memo to headquarters saying "None of the men are eligible" and I sent "None of the men is eligible". He wasn't as delighted as I think he should have been.
Ella's only child, Robert Wilcox Junior, was born on May 27, 1887 and he died on the same day.
ellawheelerwilcox.org/Photos/photo5.htm
What a pretty, intelligent, resolute face she had.
Paintings:
Salvador Dalí, Woman at the Window
'Solitude' by Frederic Leighton, 1890
Biblis by William-Adolphe Bouguereau, 1884
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 its 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.
