The Poetry Corner

The New Love

By Ella Wheeler Wilcox

I thought my heart was death chilled, I thought its fires were cold; But the new love, the new love, It warmeth like the old. I thought its rooms were shadowed With the gloom of endless night; But the new love, the new love, It fills them full of light. I thought the chambers empty, And proclaimed it unto men; But the new love, the new love, It peoples them again. I thought its halls were silent, And hushed the whole day long; But the new love, the new love, It fills them full of song. Then here is to the new love, Let who will sing the old; The new love, the new love, 'Tis more than fame or gold. For it gives us joy for sorrow, And it gives us warmth for cold; Oh! the new love, the new love, 'Tis better than the old.