Patience

by Amy Lowell

Amy Lowell

Be patient with you?

When the stooping sky

Leans down upon the hills

And tenderly, as one who soothing stills

An anguish, gathers earth to lie

Embraced and girdled. Do the sun-filled men

Feel patience then?

Be patient with you?

When the snow-girt earth

Cracks to let through a spurt

Of sudden green, and from the muddy dirt

A snowdrop leaps, how mark its worth

To eyes frost-hardened, and do weary men

Feel patience then?

Be patient with you?

When pain's iron bars

Their rivets tighten, stern

To bend and break their victims; as they turn,

Hopeless, there stand the purple jars

Of night to spill oblivion. Do these men

Feel 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?