Today's poem on Penny's Poetry Blog:
Thanksgiving, by Ella Wheeler Wilcox

We walk on starry fields of white
And do not see the daisies;
For blessings common in our sight
We rarely offer praises.
[...]

https://gdancesbetty.blogspot.com/2023/11/thanksgiving-ella-wheeler-wilcox.html

#pennyspoems

On Sunday, November 19, 2023 at 4:06:35 PM UTC-5, NancyGene wrote:
>
> Thanksgiving*
> by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
>
> We walk on starry fields of white
> And do not see the daisies;
> For blessings common in our sight
> We rarely offer praises.
> We sigh for some supreme delight
> To crown our lives with splendor,
> And quite ignore our daily store
> Of pleasures sweet and tender.
>
> Our cares are bold and push their way
> Upon our thought and feeling.
> They hang about us all the day,
> Our time from pleasure stealing.
> So unobtrusive many a joy
> We pass by and forget it,
> But worry strives to own our lives
> And conquers if we let it.
>
> There’s not a day in all the year
> But holds some hidden pleasure,
> And looking back, joys oft appear
> To brim the past’s wide measure.
> But blessings are like friends, I hold,
> Who love and labor near us.
> We ought to raise our notes of praise
> While living hearts can hear us.
>
> Full many a blessing wears the guise
> Of worry or of trouble.
> Farseeing is the soul and wise
> Who knows the mask is double.
> But he who has the faith and strength
> To thank his God for sorrow
> Has found a joy without alloy
> To gladden every morrow.
>
> We ought to make the moments notes
> Of happy, glad Thanksgiving;
> The hours and days a silent phrase
> Of music we are living.
> And so the theme should swell and grow
> As weeks and months pass o’er us,
> And rise sublime at this good time,
> A grand Thanksgiving chorus.
>
> *From “Poems of Power” by Ella Wheeler Wilcox, Chicago, W.. B. Conkey Company Publishers (1901), pp. 98-99.
>
> [Ella Wheeler Wilxox] “who is perhaps best remembered for verse tinged with an eroticism that, while rather oblique, was still unconventional for her time.” We don’t see the eroticism in the “Thanksgiving” poem, but maybe she edited that out.
> https://www.britannica.com/biography/Ella-Wheeler-Wilcox

I see your biggest blog fan is still reading. George.

🙂

> Today's poem on Penny's Poetry Blog:
> Thanksgiving, by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
>
> We walk on starry fields of white
> And do not see the daisies;
> For blessings common in our sight
> We rarely offer praises.
> [...]
>
> https://gdancesbetty.blogspot.com/2023/11/thanksgiving-ella-wheeler-wilcox.html
>
> #pennyspoems
.....

Will Dockery wrote:

> On Sunday, November 19, 2023 at 4:06:35 PM UTC-5, NancyGene wrote:
>>
>> Thanksgiving*
>> by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
>>
>> We walk on starry fields of white
>> And do not see the daisies;
>> For blessings common in our sight
>> We rarely offer praises.
>> We sigh for some supreme delight
>> To crown our lives with splendor,
>> And quite ignore our daily store
>> Of pleasures sweet and tender.
>>
>> Our cares are bold and push their way
>> Upon our thought and feeling.
>> They hang about us all the day,
>> Our time from pleasure stealing.
>> So unobtrusive many a joy
>> We pass by and forget it,
>> But worry strives to own our lives
>> And conquers if we let it.
>>
>> There’s not a day in all the year
>> But holds some hidden pleasure,
>> And looking back, joys oft appear
>> To brim the past’s wide measure.
>> But blessings are like friends, I hold,
>> Who love and labor near us.
>> We ought to raise our notes of praise
>> While living hearts can hear us.
>>
>> Full many a blessing wears the guise
>> Of worry or of trouble.
>> Farseeing is the soul and wise
>> Who knows the mask is double.
>> But he who has the faith and strength
>> To thank his God for sorrow
>> Has found a joy without alloy
>> To gladden every morrow.
>>
>> We ought to make the moments notes
>> Of happy, glad Thanksgiving;
>> The hours and days a silent phrase
>> Of music we are living.
>> And so the theme should swell and grow
>> As weeks and months pass o’er us,
>> And rise sublime at this good time,
>> A grand Thanksgiving chorus.
>>
>> *From “Poems of Power” by Ella Wheeler Wilcox, Chicago, W.. B. Conkey Company Publishers (1901), pp. 98-99.
>>
>> [Ella Wheeler Wilxox] “who is perhaps best remembered for verse tinged with an eroticism that, while rather oblique, was still unconventional for her time.” We don’t see the eroticism in the “Thanksgiving” poem, but maybe she edited that out.
>> https://www.britannica.com/biography/Ella-Wheeler-Wilcox

> I see your biggest blog fan is still reading. George.

> 🙂

>> Today's poem on Penny's Poetry Blog:
>> Thanksgiving, by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
>>
>> We walk on starry fields of white
>> And do not see the daisies;
>> For blessings common in our sight
>> We rarely offer praises.
>> [...]
>>
>> https://gdancesbetty.blogspot.com/2023/11/thanksgiving-ella-wheeler-wilcox.html
>>
>> #pennyspoems
> .....

Good ole Nancy G.

Once a stalker troll, always a stalker troll.... ha ha.

That is all.

On Sunday, November 19, 2023 at 4:40:17 PM UTC-5, General-Zod wrote:
> Will Dockery wrote:
>
> > On Sunday, November 19, 2023 at 4:06:35 PM UTC-5, NancyGene wrote:
> >>
> >> Thanksgiving*
> >> by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
> >>
> >> We walk on starry fields of white
> >> And do not see the daisies;
> >> For blessings common in our sight
> >> We rarely offer praises.
> >> We sigh for some supreme delight
> >> To crown our lives with splendor,
> >> And quite ignore our daily store
> >> Of pleasures sweet and tender.
> >>
> >> Our cares are bold and push their way
> >> Upon our thought and feeling.
> >> They hang about us all the day,
> >> Our time from pleasure stealing.
> >> So unobtrusive many a joy
> >> We pass by and forget it,
> >> But worry strives to own our lives
> >> And conquers if we let it.
> >>
> >> There’s not a day in all the year
> >> But holds some hidden pleasure,
> >> And looking back, joys oft appear
> >> To brim the past’s wide measure.
> >> But blessings are like friends, I hold,
> >> Who love and labor near us.
> >> We ought to raise our notes of praise
> >> While living hearts can hear us.
> >>
> >> Full many a blessing wears the guise
> >> Of worry or of trouble.
> >> Farseeing is the soul and wise
> >> Who knows the mask is double.
> >> But he who has the faith and strength
> >> To thank his God for sorrow
> >> Has found a joy without alloy
> >> To gladden every morrow.
> >>
> >> We ought to make the moments notes
> >> Of happy, glad Thanksgiving;
> >> The hours and days a silent phrase
> >> Of music we are living.
> >> And so the theme should swell and grow
> >> As weeks and months pass o’er us,
> >> And rise sublime at this good time,
> >> A grand Thanksgiving chorus.
> >>
> >> *From “Poems of Power” by Ella Wheeler Wilcox, Chicago, W.. B. Conkey Company Publishers (1901), pp. 98-99.
> >>
> >> [Ella Wheeler Wilxox] “who is perhaps best remembered for verse tinged with an eroticism that, while rather oblique, was still unconventional for her time.” We don’t see the eroticism in the “Thanksgiving” poem, but maybe she edited that out.
> >> https://www.britannica.com/biography/Ella-Wheeler-Wilcox
>
> > I see your biggest blog fan is still reading. George.
>
> > 🙂
>
> >> Today's poem on Penny's Poetry Blog:
> >> Thanksgiving, by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
> >>
> >> We walk on starry fields of white
> >> And do not see the daisies;
> >> For blessings common in our sight
> >> We rarely offer praises.
> >> [...]
> >>
> >> https://gdancesbetty.blogspot.com/2023/11/thanksgiving-ella-wheeler-wilcox.html
> >>
> >> #pennyspoems
> > .....
>
> Good ole Nancy G.
>
> Once a stalker troll, always a stalker troll.... ha ha.
>
> That is all.

Pathetic but true.

:)

NancyGene wrote:

>
>> > > Thanksgiving*
>> > > by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
>> > >
>> > > We walk on starry fields of white
>> > > And do not see the daisies;
>> > > For blessings common in our sight
>> > > We rarely offer praises.
>> > > We sigh for some supreme delight
>> > > To crown our lives with splendor,
>> > > And quite ignore our daily store
>> > > Of pleasures sweet and tender.
>> > >
>> > > Our cares are bold and push their way
>> > > Upon our thought and feeling.
>> > > They hang about us all the day,
>> > > Our time from pleasure stealing.
>> > > So unobtrusive many a joy
>> > > We pass by and forget it,
>> > > But worry strives to own our lives
>> > > And conquers if we let it.
>> > >
>> > > There’s not a day in all the year
>> > > But holds some hidden pleasure,
>> > > And looking back, joys oft appear
>> > > To brim the past’s wide measure.
>> > > But blessings are like friends, I hold,
>> > > Who love and labor near us.
>> > > We ought to raise our notes of praise
>> > > While living hearts can hear us.
>> > >
>> > > Full many a blessing wears the guise
>> > > Of worry or of trouble.
>> > > Farseeing is the soul and wise
>> > > Who knows the mask is double.
>> > > But he who has the faith and strength
>> > > To thank his God for sorrow
>> > > Has found a joy without alloy
>> > > To gladden every morrow.
>> > >
>> > > We ought to make the moments notes
>> > > Of happy, glad Thanksgiving;
>> > > The hours and days a silent phrase
>> > > Of music we are living.
>> > > And so the theme should swell and grow
>> > > As weeks and months pass o’er us,
>> > > And rise sublime at this good time,
>> > > A grand Thanksgiving chorus.
>> > >
>> > > *From “Poems of Power” by Ella Wheeler Wilcox, Chicago, W. B. Conkey Company Publishers (1901), pp. 98-99.
>> > >
>> > > [Ella Wheeler Wilxox] “who is perhaps best remembered for verse tinged with an eroticism that, while rather oblique, was still unconventional for her time.” We don’t see the eroticism in the “Thanksgiving” poem, but maybe she edited that out.
>> > > https://www.britannica.com/biography/Ella-Wheeler-Wilcox
>> > Wilcox was a popular poet in her time, but not critically accepted: "In his 1929 study Practical Criticism, I. A. Richards suggests that Wilcox is bad because she 'overdoes' commonplace emotions, thus insulting the reader while revealing her own (low) rank (207). The joke continues to resonate, as evidenced by John Ashbery's faux‐homage, 'Variations, Calypso, and Fugue on the Theme of Ella Wheeler Wilcox,' in which, Mark Silverberg argues, Ashbery embraces Wilcox precisely because she is so bad (286)."
>> > https://epublications.marquette.edu/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=1455&context=english_fac#:~:text=Perelman%2C%20marking%20what%20American%20poetry,low)%20rank%20(207). (page 3)
>> We certainly hope that George Dance doesn't again steal our poem-find and research. Has he no Canadian shame?

> We wonder if Ella wrote a 19th century version of "Fifty Shades of Grey?" She evidently shocked readers. Would George Dance be shocked? No, because he doesn't read the poems that he takes from our prompting posts.

Prompting posts?

Why do you lie so much, NancyGene?

🙂

(Moved from a troll thread)

Will Dockery wrote:

> NancyGene wrote:

>>
>>> > > Thanksgiving*
>>> > > by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
>>> > >
>>> > > We walk on starry fields of white
>>> > > And do not see the daisies;
>>> > > For blessings common in our sight
>>> > > We rarely offer praises.
>>> > > We sigh for some supreme delight
>>> > > To crown our lives with splendor,
>>> > > And quite ignore our daily store
>>> > > Of pleasures sweet and tender.
>>> > >
>>> > > Our cares are bold and push their way
>>> > > Upon our thought and feeling.
>>> > > They hang about us all the day,
>>> > > Our time from pleasure stealing.
>>> > > So unobtrusive many a joy
>>> > > We pass by and forget it,
>>> > > But worry strives to own our lives
>>> > > And conquers if we let it.
>>> > >
>>> > > There’s not a day in all the year
>>> > > But holds some hidden pleasure,
>>> > > And looking back, joys oft appear
>>> > > To brim the past’s wide measure.
>>> > > But blessings are like friends, I hold,
>>> > > Who love and labor near us.
>>> > > We ought to raise our notes of praise
>>> > > While living hearts can hear us.
>>> > >
>>> > > Full many a blessing wears the guise
>>> > > Of worry or of trouble.
>>> > > Farseeing is the soul and wise
>>> > > Who knows the mask is double.
>>> > > But he who has the faith and strength
>>> > > To thank his God for sorrow
>>> > > Has found a joy without alloy
>>> > > To gladden every morrow.
>>> > >
>>> > > We ought to make the moments notes
>>> > > Of happy, glad Thanksgiving;
>>> > > The hours and days a silent phrase
>>> > > Of music we are living.
>>> > > And so the theme should swell and grow
>>> > > As weeks and months pass o’er us,
>>> > > And rise sublime at this good time,
>>> > > A grand Thanksgiving chorus.
>>> > >
>>> > > *From “Poems of Power” by Ella Wheeler Wilcox, Chicago, W. B. Conkey Company Publishers (1901), pp. 98-99.
>>> > >
>>> > > [Ella Wheeler Wilxox] “who is perhaps best remembered for verse tinged with an eroticism that, while rather oblique, was still unconventional for her time.” We don’t see the eroticism in the “Thanksgiving” poem, but maybe she edited that out.
>>> > > https://www.britannica.com/biography/Ella-Wheeler-Wilcox
>>> > Wilcox was a popular poet in her time, but not critically accepted: "In his 1929 study Practical Criticism, I. A. Richards suggests that Wilcox is bad because she 'overdoes' commonplace emotions, thus insulting the reader while revealing her own (low) rank (207). The joke continues to resonate, as evidenced by John Ashbery's faux‐homage, 'Variations, Calypso, and Fugue on the Theme of Ella Wheeler Wilcox,' in which, Mark Silverberg argues, Ashbery embraces Wilcox precisely because she is so bad (286)."
>>> > https://epublications.marquette.edu/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=1455&context=english_fac#:~:text=Perelman%2C%20marking%20what%20American%20poetry,low)%20rank%20(207). (page 3)
>>> We certainly hope that George Dance doesn't again steal our poem-find and research. Has he no Canadian shame?

>> We wonder if Ella wrote a 19th century version of "Fifty Shades of Grey?" She evidently shocked readers. Would George Dance be shocked? No, because he doesn't read the poems that he takes from our prompting posts.

> Prompting posts?

> Why do you lie so much, NancyGene?

> 🙂

> (Moved from a troll thread)

You nailed it