Patience, hard thing!

Patience, hard thing! the hard thing but to pray,
But bid for, Patience is! Patience who asks
Wants war, wants wounds; weary his times, his tasks;
To do without, take tosses, and obey.
Rare patience roots in these, and, these away,
Nowhere. Natural heart's ivy, Patience masks
Our ruins of wrecked past purpose. There she basks
Purple eyes and seas of liquid leaves all day.

We hear our hearts grate on themselves: it kills
To bruise them dearer. Yet the rebellious wills
Of us we do bid God bend to him even so.
And where is he who more and more distils
Delicious kindness? - He is patient. Patience fills
His crisp combs, and that comes those ways we know.

Gerard Manley Hopkins

Gerard Manley Hopkins was an English poet and Jesuit priest, whose posthumous fame placed him among the leading Victorian poets. His experimental explorations in prosody and his use of imagery established him as a daring innovator in a period of largely traditional verse. Hopkins' work had cutting-edge sensibilities that prefigured the modernist style, though his poems were first published only in 1918, long after his death.

Gerard Manley Hopkins

Spelt from Sibyl's Leaves

Gerard Manley Hopkins, Simple Poetry

My own heart

Gerard Manley Hopkins, Simple Poetry

Fragment

Gerard Manley Hopkins, Simple Poetry

The Starlight Night

Gerard Manley Hopkins, Simple Poetry

English

Suggested Poems

Explore a curated selection of verses that share themes, styles, and emotional resonance with the poem you've just read.

Patience Taught By Nature

'O dreary life,' we cry, 'O dreary life!'
And still the generations of the birds
Sing through our sighing, and the flocks and herds
Serenely live while we are keeping strife
With Heaven's true purpose in us, as a knife
Against which we may struggle! Ocean girds
Unslackened the dry land, savannah-swards
Unweary sweep, hills watch unworn, and rife
Meek leaves drop yearly from the forest-trees
To show, above, the unwasted stars that pass
In their old glory: O thou God of old,
Grant me some smaller grace than comes to these!
But so much patience as a blade of grass
Grows by, contented through the heat and cold.

Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Patience.

The passion of despair is quelled at last;
    The cruel sense of undeserved wrong,
The wild self-pity, these are also past;
    She knows not what may come, but she is strong;
She feels she hath not aught to lose nor gain,
Her patience is the essence of all pain.


As one who sits beside a lapsing stream,
    She sees the flow of changeless day by day,
Too sick and tired to think, too sad to dream,
    Nor cares how soon the waters slip away,
Nor where they lead; at the wise God's decree,
She will depart or bide indifferently.


There is deeper pathos in the mild
    And settled sorrow of the quiet eyes,
Than in the tumults of the anguish wild,
    That made her curse all things beneath the skies;
No question, no reproaches, no complaint,<...

Emma Lazarus

Patience

I.

I saw how the patient Sun
    Hasted untiringly
The self-same old race to run;
    Never aspiringly
Seeking some other road
    Through the blue heaven
Than the one path which God
    Long since had given; -
        And I said; - "Patient Sun,
        Teach me my race to run,
        Even as thine is done,
            Steadfastly ever;
        Weakly, impatiently
            Wandering never!"


II.

I saw how the patient Earth
    Sat uncomplainingly,
While, in his boisterous mirth,
    Winter disdainingly
Mocked at her steadfast trust,
    That, from its icy chain,
Spring her imprisoned dust
    Soon would release again; -
        And I said; - "Patient Earth,
        Biding thy hour of dear...

Pamela S. Vining (J. C. Yule)

Prayer For Patience.

Lord, who hast sufferd all for me,
My peace and pardon to procure,
The lighter cross I bear for thee,
Help me with patience to endure.


The storm of loud repining hush,
I would in humble silence mourn;
Why should the unburnt though burning bush,
Be angry as the crackling thorn?


Man should not faint at thy rebuke,
Like Joshua falling on his face,^[1]
When the curst thing that Achan took
Brought Israel into just disgrace.


Perhaps some golden wedge suppressd,
Some secret sin offends my God;
Perhaps that Babylonish vest,
Self-righteousness, provokes the rod.


Ah! were I buffeted all day,
Mockd, crownd with thorns, and spit upon;
I yet should have no right to say,
My great distress is mine a...

William Cowper

The Angel Of Patience

A free paraphrase of the German.


To weary hearts, to mourning homes,
God's meekest Angel gently comes
No power has he to banish pain,
Or give us back our lost again;
And yet in tenderest love, our dear
And Heavenly Father sends him here.

There's quiet in that Angel's glance,
There 's rest in his still countenance!
He mocks no grief with idle cheer,
Nor wounds with words the mourner's ear;
But ills and woes he may not cure
He kindly trains us to endure.

Angel of Patience! sent to calm
Our feverish brows with cooling palm;
To lay the storms of hope and fear,
And reconcile life's smile and tear;
The throbs of wounded pride to still,
And make our own our Father's will.

O thou who mournest on thy way,
With lo...

John Greenleaf Whittier

Patience: Or, Comforts In Crosses.

Abundant plagues I late have had,
Yet none of these have made me sad:
For why? My Saviour with the sense
Of suff'ring gives me patience.

Robert Herrick