Changed? Yes, I will confess it—I have changed.
I do not love in the old fond way.
I am your friend still—time has not estranged
One kindly feeling of that vanished day.
But the bright glamour which made life a dream,
The rapture of that time, its sweet content,
Like visions of a sleeper’s brain they seem—
And yet I cannot tell you how they went.
Why do you gaze with such accusing eyes
Upon me, dear? Is it so very strange
That hearts, like all things underneath God’s skies
Should sometimes feel the influence of change?
The birds, the flowers, the foliage of the trees,
The stars which seem so fixed and so sublime,
Vast continents and the eternal seas—
All these do change with ever-changing time.
The face our mirror shows us year on year
Is not the same; our dearest aim or need,
Our lightest thought or feeling, hope or fear,
All, all the law of alteration heed.
How can we ask the human heart to stay
Content with fancies of Youth’s earliest hours?
The year outgrows the violets of May,
Although, maybe, there are no fairer flowers.
And life may hold no sweeter love than this,
Which lies so cold, so voiceless, and so dumb.
And shall I miss it, dear? Why, yes, we miss
The violets always—till the roses come!
Love Poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Meaning of the Poem ‘Change’ by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
In Change, Ella Wheeler Wilcox explores the evolution of romantic feeling, acknowledging how once-intense love can fade into gentle friendship over time. The speaker tenderly admits to no longer loving as she once did, not through any act of betrayal or anger, but simply because the passion has quietly dissolved. She still holds affection, yet the enchantment that once defined their bond has lifted, mysteriously and without clear cause.
Wilcox reflects on change as a natural part of existence, pointing to the shifting of seasons, the aging of faces, and the transformation of landscapes as metaphors for the heart’s evolution. Just as the violets of spring must yield to summer’s roses, so too must youthful infatuation give way to deeper, different loves… or sometimes none at all.
This poem gently affirms that the fading of love is not a fault, but a part of living honestly. It is a recognition that beauty exists even in what is lost, and that letting go with grace can open the door to love’s next season.
