Explore "Three Women" by Ella Wheeler Wilcox on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Maurice Somerville from his turreted den / Looked out of the window and laid down his pen. / A soft salty wind from the water was blowing, / Below in the garden sat Ruth with her sewing. / And stretched on the grass at her feet Roger lay / With a book in his hand.
Through the ripe August day, / Piped the Katydids' voices, Jack Frost's tally-ho / Commanding Queen Summer to pack up and go. / Maurice leaned his head on the casement and sighed, / Strong and full in his heart surged love's turbulent tide. / And thoughts of the woman he worshiped with longing / Took shape and like angels about him came thronging. / The world was all Mabel! her exquisite face / Seemed etched on the sunlight and gave it its grace; / Her eyes made the blue of the heavens, the sun / Was her wonderful hair caught and coiled into one / Shining mass. With a reverent, worshipful awe, / It was Mabel, fair Mabel, dear Mabel he saw, / When he looked up to God.