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1850–1919

THE CHOSEN

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

They stood before the Angel at the gate; The Angel asked:‘ Why should you enter in?’ One said:‘ On earth my place was high and great;’ And one:‘ I warned my fellow-men from sin;’

Another:‘ I was teacher of the faith; I scorned my life and lived in love with death.’ And one stood silent.‘ Speak!’ the Angel said; ‘ What earthly deed has sent you here to-day?’

‘ Alas! I did but follow where they led,’ He answered sadly:‘ I had lost my way - So new the country, and so strange my flight; I only sought for guidance and for light.’

‘ You have no passport?’‘ None,’ the answer came. ‘ I loved the earth, tho’ lowly was my lot. I strove to keep my record free from blame, And make a heaven about my humble spot.

A narrow life; I see it now, too late; So, Angel, drive me from the heavenly gate.’ The Angel swung the portal wide and free, And took the sorrowing stranger by the hand.

‘ Nay, you alone,’ he said,‘ shall come with me, Of all this waiting and insistent band. Of what God gave, you built your paradise; Behold your mansion waiting in the skies.’

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THE CHOSEN · Ella Wheeler Wilcox · Poetry Cove