To An Astrologer

Nay, seer, I do not doubt thy mystic lore,

Nor question that the tenor of my life,

Past, present and the future is revealed

There in thy horoscope: I do believe

That yon dead Moon compels the haughty

To ebb and flow, and that my natal star

Stands like a stern-browed sentinel in space

And challenges events; nor lets one grief

Or joy, or favor, or success pass on

To mar or bless my earthly lot, until

It proves its fated right to come to me

All this I grant; but more than this I know:

Before the Solar Systems were conceived,

When nothing was but the unnameable,

My spirit lived, an atom of the Cause.

Through countless ages, and in many forms

It has existed, ere it entered in

This human form to serve its little day

Upon the Earth; the deathless Me of me

The spark from that all-creative fire

Is part of that eternal source called GOD,

And Mightier than the universe. Why he

Who knows, and knowing never once forgets

The pedigree divine of his soul,

Can conquer, shape and govern destiny

And use vast space as 'twere a board for chess

With stars for pawns; can change his

to suit his will; turn failure to success,

And from preordained sorrow harvest hoy.

There is no puny planet, Sun or Moon

Or zodiacal sign which can control

The God in us! If we bring that to bear

Upon events, we mold them to our wish;

'Tis when the Infinite 'neath the finite gropes

That men are governed by their horoscopes.

- Ella Wheeler Wilcox






The Worlds and I

The Invisible Helpers

The Voice of the Voiceless


Roads to God

To an Astrologer

Secret Thoughts

Excerpts from Ella Wheeler Wilcox's Forum