Patience
Be patient with you?When the stooping skyLeans down upon the hillsAnd tenderly, as one who soothing stillsAn anguish, gathers earth to lieEmbraced and girdled. Do the sun-filled menFeel patience then?
Be patient with you?When the snow-girt earthCracks to let through a spurtOf sudden green, and from the muddy dirtA snowdrop leaps, how mark its worthTo eyes frost-hardened, and do weary menFeel patience then?
Be patient with you?When pain’s iron barsTheir rivets tighten, sternTo bend and break their victims; as they turn,Hopeless, there stand the purple jarsOf night to spill oblivion. Do these menFeel patience then?
Be patient with you?You! My sun and moon!My basketful of flowers!My money-bag of shining dreams! My hours,Windless and still, of afternoon!You are my world and I your citizen.What meaning can have patience then?