The third characteristic manifest in her poetry is that of the spirit of helpfulness that manifests itself in every new phase of life that she assumes. This attitude is illustrated with respect to mankind in general and also with respect to her own sex. The poems used are "I Am" and "Which Are You?"

With love and helpfulness as the bond which unite mankind, Mrs. Wilcox feels there is no place for strife and warfare.

She assails war and expresses her conviction that womankind shall have much to do with the final disarmament of nations.

She believes implicitly in the mutual helpfulness of man and woman in solving the great problems of the world. Her own home life is one of constant happiness and of constant useful activity. When asked to express what life means to her she wrote an article for the Cosmopolitan which began thus: "Exhilaration, anticipation, realization, usefulness, growth--these things life has always meant and is meaning to me. I expected much of life; it has given, in all ways, more than I expected. Love has been more loyal and lasting, friendship sweeter and more comprehensive, work more enjoyable, and fame, because of its aid to usefulness, more satisfying than early imagination pictured." Of one whose ideals of life are so high the state should be justly proud and its people should delight to hear her sing:

"I know we are building our heaven As we journey along by the way; Each thought is a nail that is driven In structures that cannot decay, And the mansion at last shall be given To us as we build it today."

It was not until after her return from the University that Ella Wheeler discovered that her poems had a money value. She sent Frank Leslie's Publishing House three little poems written in one day. These were accepted and a check sent her for ten dollars. She now bent every effort towards making her literary efforts return substantial aid to herself and her family. It was all her own effort and the worth of her productions that brought her success, for she had no one to aid her in securing publication. She sent her poems to various magazines,--a practise she still continues. During the years 1912 and 1913, she had poems and prose productions listed in the following periodicals: Current Literature, Everybody's, Good Housekeeping, Ladies' Home Journal, Collier's Magazine, New England Magazine, The Bookman, Lippincott's, Forum, Cosmopolitan, Musician, Current Opinion, and Hearst's magazine.

Mrs. Wilcox has attempted only one long narrative poem, "Maurine." In this she endeavors to set forth the doctrine of what she regards as the highest type of friendship. Her collections of poems bear the following titles: Drops of Water, Shells, Poems of Passion, Three Women, An Ambitious Man, Everyday, Thought in Prose and Verse, Poems of Pleasure, Kingdom of Love and Other Poems, An Erring Woman's Love, Men, Women and Emotions, The Beautiful Land of Nod, Poems of Power, The Heart of the New Thought, Sonnets of Abelard and Heloise, Poems of Experience, Yesterday, Poems of Progress, Maurine, and Poems of Problems.

Some time after a brief venture in editorial work, she was married, 1884, to Robert M. Wilcox, a business man of New York City. Their home life in the city and by the seashore at Granite Bay, Short Beach, Connecticut, has been most delightful to them. They have been able to travel extensively and in this manner to realize many of Mrs. Wilcox's early dreams. The following poems are from "The Kingdom of Love"

and "Poems of Power."

[Illustration: ELLA WHEELER WILCOX]

THE TWO GLASSES

The following poems of Mrs. Ella Wheeler Wilcox are reprinted here by permission of the publishers from her copyrighted books, of which W. B. Conkey Co., Chicago, are the exclusive American publishers.

There sat two glasses filled to the brim, On a rich man's table, rim to rim.

One was ruddy and red as blood, And one was clear as the crystal flood.

Said the glass of wine to his paler brother: "Let us tell tales of the past to each other.

I can tell of a banquet, and revel, and mirth, Where I was king, for I ruled in might; For the proudest and grandest souls on earth Fell under my touch, as though struck with blight.

From the heads of kings I have torn the crown; From the heights of fame I have hurled men down.

I have blasted many an honored name; I have taken virtue and given shame; I have tempted the youth with a sip, a taste, That has made his future a barren waste.

Far greater than any king am I Or than any army beneath the sky.

I have made the arm of the driver fail, And sent the train from the iron rail.

I have made good ships go down at sea, And the shrieks of the lost were sweet to me.

Fame, strength, wealth, genius before me fall; And my might and power are over all!

Ho, ho! pale brother," said the wine, "Can you boast of deeds as great as mine?"

Said the water glass; "I can not boast Of a king dethroned, or a murdered host, But I can tell of hearts that were sad By my crystal drops made bright and glad; Of thirst I have quenched, and brows I have laved; Of hands I have cooled, and souls I have saved.

I have leaped through the valley, and dashed down the mountain, Slept in the sunshine and dripped from the fountain.

I have burst my cloud-fetters, and dropped from the sky, And everywhere gladdened the prospects and eye; I have eased the hot forehead of fever and pain; I have made the parched meadows grow fertile with grain.

I can tell of the powerful wheel of the mill, That ground out the flour, and turned at my will, I can tell of manhood debased by you, That I have uplifted and crowned anew.

I cheer, I help, I strengthen and aid; I gladden the hearts of man and maid; I set the wine-chained captive free, And all are better for knowing me."

These are the tales they told each other, The glass of wine and its paler brother, As they sat together, filled to the brim, On a rich man's table rim to rim.

THE KINGDOM OF LOVE

In the dawn of the day when the sea and the earth Reflected the sun-rise above, I set forth with a heart full of courage and mirth To seek for the Kingdom of Love.

I asked of a poet I met on the way Which cross-road would lead me aright.

And he said: "Follow me, and ere long you shall see Its glittering turrets of light."

And soon in the distance the city shone fair.

"Look yonder," he said; "how it gleams!"

But alas! for the hopes that were doomed to despair, It was only the "Kingdom of Dreams."

Then the next man I asked was a gay cavalier, And he said: "Follow me, follow me;"

And with laughter and song we went speeding along By the shores of Life's beautiful sea.

Then we came to a valley more tropical far Than the wonderful vale of Cashmere, And I saw from a bower a face like a flower Smile out on the gay cavalier.

And he said: "We have come to humanity's goal: Here love and delight are intense."

But alas and alas! for the hopes of my soul-- It was only the "Kingdom of Sense."

As I journeyed more slowly I met on the road A coach with retainers behind.

And they said: "Follow me, for our lady's abode Belongs in that realm, you will find."

'Twas a grand dame of fashion, a newly-made bride, I followed encouraged and bold; But my hopes died away like the last gleams of day, For we came to the "Kingdom of Gold."

At the door of a cottage I asked a fair maid.

"I have heard of that realm," she replied; "But my feet never roam from the 'Kingdom of Home,'

So I know not the way," and she sighed.

I looked on the cottage; how restful it seemed!

And the maid was as fair as a dove.

Great light glorified my soul as I cried: "Why, home is the 'Kingdom of Love.'"

THE TENDRIL'S FATE

Under the snow in the dark and the cold, A pale little sprout was humming; Sweetly it sang, 'neath the frozen mold, Of the beautiful days that were coming.

"How foolish your songs," said a lump of clay, "What is there," it asked, "to prove them?"

"Just look at the walls between you and the day, Now have you the strength to move them?"

But under the ice and under the snow, The pale little sprout kept singing, "I cannot tell how, but I know, I know, I know what the days are bringing.

"Birds and blossoms and buzzing bees, Blue, blue skies above me, Bloom on the meadows and buds on the trees, And the great glad sun to love me."

A pebble spoke next. "You are quite absurd,"

It said, "with your songs' insistence; For I never saw a tree or a bird, So of course there are none in existence."

"But I know, I know," the tendril cried In beautiful sweet unreason; Till lo! from its prison, glorified, It burst in the glad spring season.

THREE FRIENDS

Of all the blessings which my life has known, I value most, and most praise God for three: Want, Loneliness, and Pain, those comrades true,

Who masqueraded in the garb of foes For many a year, and filled my heart with dread.

Yet fickle joy, like false, pretentious friends, Has proved less worthy than this trio. First,

Want taught me labor, led me up the steep And toilsome paths to hills of pure delight, Trod only by the feet that know fatigue, And yet press on until the heights appear.

Then Loneliness and hunger of the heart Sent me upreaching to the realms of space, Till all the silences grew eloquent, And all their loving forces hailed me friend.

Last, Pain taught prayer! placed in my hand the staff Of close communion with the over-soul, That I might lean upon it to the end, And find myself made strong for any strife.