Poems About Patience

Table of Contents

He that can have patience can have what he will.

– Ben Franklin
Poor Richard's Almanack

“

1. Serenity

   by Amos Russel Wells

   
   

   ►

   ▼

    Full Text

   Learn patience. Watch the quiet-moving hours
   Slowly beneath hard winter form the spring.
   To-day the earth is locked in icy death,
   To-morrow, and to-morrow. Dreary boughs
   Flaunt their dry leaves in mockery of life.
   The ground is adamant; no juices run;
   The world is chained in silent hopelessness.

   But patience! By a hair's breadth momently
   The whirling globe turns nearer to the sun.
   And patience! By a hair's breadth momently
   The iron earth relaxes into life.
   Slow drop by drop the sluggish current starts
   Through nature's myriad veins. The glittering sky
   Takes on insensibly a milder light.
   The meadow softens. Through the waiting woods
   Delicious thrills anticipate the spring.

   For He, the Life, the omnipresent Life,
   The Life that beats at every door of death,
   The Life that broods in every sky, and spreads
   In ceaseless widening waves to every shore,
   Has filled the world too full for any noise
   Or bluster of His working,—nought to do,
   In any corner of His universe,
   But live and love and be the God He is!

   So shall I live when I am one with Him,
   So shall I work in all serenity.
   So shall I face the cold or any heat,
   The storm or drought, and live my life through all.
   So shall I know the shallowness of sound,
   The majesty of calm; and so at last
   Become co-worker of God's patient years.

2. An Exhortation to Patience

   by Eliza Wolcott

   
   

   ►

   ▼

    Full Text

   It is a thorny path we tread,
   Where disappointments come;
   Then we are mingled with the dead,
   And cover'd in the tomb.
   

   Our fondest hopes are blighted here,
   For earth is not our home;
   Then o'er frail life we drop a tear,
   And welcome then the tomb.
   

   To-day the sun is bright and clear,
   To morrow clouds may come;
   Yet though no change to us appear,
   We are hastening to the tomb.
   

   Look then on life as lent awhile,
   To gain a heavenly home,
   Where Jesus meets us with a smile,
   Who once perfum'd the tomb.
   

   For us a crown of thorns He wore,
   His soul was fill'd with gloom,
   Then led believers evermore,
   To triumph o'er the tomb.
   

   When to the cross His hands were nail'd,
   And the dread hour was come,
   His glorious mission never fail'd,
   He conquer'd then the tomb.
   

   Then let us wait with patience here,
   Our Conqueror soon will come;
   The trump shall sound, the dead shall hear,
   And live beyond the tomb.
   

3. If We Understood

   We should love each other better,
   If we only understood.
   

   - Anonymous
   If We Understood

   “

   by Anonymous

   
   

   ►

   ▼

    Full Text

   Could we but draw back the curtains
   That surround each other's lives,
   See the naked heart and spirit,
   Know what spur the action gives,
   Often we should find it better,
   Purer than we judged we should,
   We should love each other better,
   If we only understood.
   

   Could we judge all deeds by motives,
   See the good and bad within,
   Often we should love the sinner
   All the while we loathe the sin;
   Could we know the powers working
   To o'erthrow integrity,
   We should judge each other's errors
   With more patient charity.
   

   If we knew the cares and trials,
   Knew the effort all in vain,
   And the bitter disappointment,
   Understood the loss and gain—
   Would the grim, eternal roughness
   Seem—I wonder—just the same?
   Should we help where now we hinder,
   Should we pity where we blame?
   

   Ah! we judge each other harshly,
   Knowing not life's hidden force;
   Knowing not the fount of action
   Is less turbid at its source;
   Seeing not amid the evil
   All the golden grains of good;
   Oh! we'd love each other better,
   If we only understood.
   

4. The Blind Boy

   With heavy sighs I often hear
   You mourn my hapless woe;
   But sure with patience I can bear
   A loss I ne'er can know.
   

   – Colley Cibber
   The Blind Boy

   “

   by Colley Cibber

   
   

   ►

   ▼

    Full Text

   O say what is that thing called Light,
   Which I must ne'er enjoy;
   What are the blessings of the sight,
   O tell your poor blind boy!
   

   You talk of wondrous things you see,
   You say the sun shines bright;
   I feel him warm, but how can he,
   Or make it day or night?
   

   My day or night myself I make
   Whene'er I sleep or play;
   And could I ever keep awake
   With me 'twere always day.
   

   With heavy sighs I often hear
   You mourn my hapless woe;
   But sure with patience I can bear
   A loss I ne'er can know.
   

   Then let not what I cannot have
   My cheer of mind destroy:
   Whilst thus I sing, I am a king,
   Although a poor blind boy.
   

5. Pebbles

   by Frank Dempster Sherman

   
   

   ►

   ▼

    Full Text

   Out of a pellucid brook
   Pebbles round and smooth I took;
   Like a jewel, every one
   Caught a color from the sun, —
   Ruby red and sapphire blue,
   Emerald and onyx too,
   Diamond and amethyst, —
   Not a precious stone I missed;
   Gems I held from every land
   In the hollow of my hand.
   

   Workman Water these had made;
   Patiently through sun and shade,
   With the ripples of the rill
   He had polished them, until
   Smooth, symmetrical and bright,
   Each one sparkling in the light
   Showed within its burning heart
   All the lapidary’s art;
   And the brook seemed thus to sing:
   Patience conquers everything!
   

6. I Waited Patiently For The Lord

   by Amos Russel Wells

   
   

   ►

   ▼

    Full Text

   Why should I not be patient? Thou hast been
   So patient, endless patient, with my sin;
   Hast waited long, hast kept Thy lamp alight,
   Piercing with love my reckless, wandering night;
   Hast pitied me, forgiven me, forborne,
   With not a word and not a look of scorn;
   So eager hast Thou been to come to me,
   And I have fled in folly far from Thee,
   

   Why should I not be patient? Why not wait
   However long Thy coming, slow and late?
   So long was I in turning, late and slow
   In calling to Thee from my depth of woe,
   So did I try Thy patience, surely now
   I must await Thee with a peaceful brow,
   Must bide Thy coming with a heart serene,
   And know the Father whom I have not seen.
   

   Nay, in my patient waiting for Thy grace,
   I see, my God, the smiling of Thy face,
   I hear Thy voice, I feel Thy loving arm
   Enfolding me protecting from harm;
   The silences are vocal with delight,
   The empty air reveals a radiant sight,
   And earth and heaven are in one accord
   As I am waiting, patient, for the Lord.
   

7. Patient with the Living

   by Margaret E. Sangster

   
   

   ►

   ▼

    Full Text

   Sweet friend, when thou and I are gone
   Beyond earth's weary labor,
   When small shall be our need of grace
   From comrade or from neighbor,
   Past all the strife, the toil, the care,
   And done with all the sighing,
   What tender ruth shall we have gained,
   Alas, by simply dying!
   

   Then lips too chary for their praise
   Will tell our merits over,
   And eyes too swift our fault to see
   Shall no defect discover.
   Then hands that would not lift a stone
   Where tones were thick to cumber
   Our steep hill path, will scatter flower
   Above our pillowed slumber.
   

   Sweet friend, perchance both thou and I,
   Ere love is past forgiving,
   Should take the earnest lesson home—
   Be patient with the living.
   To-day's repressed rebuke may save
   Our blinding tears to-morrow;
   Then patience, e'en when keenest edge
   May whet a nameless sorrow.
   

   'Tis easy to be gentle when
   Death's silence shames our clamor,
   And easy to discern the best
   Through memory's mystic glamour;
   But wise it were for thee and me,
   Ere love is past forgiving,
   To take the tender lesson home—
   Be patient with the living.
   

8. Woman's Love

   by Frances Anne Kemble

   A maiden meek, with solemn, steadfast eyes,
   Full of eternal constancy and faith,
   And smiling lips, through whose soft portal sighs
   Truth's holy voice, with every balmy breath,
   So journeys she along life's crowded way,
   Keeping her soul's sweet counsel from all sight;
   Nor pomp, nor vanity, lead her astray,
   Nor aught that men call dazzling, fair, or bright:
   For pity, sometimes, doth she pause, and stay
   Those whom she meeteth mourning, for her heart
   Knows well in suffering how to bear its part.
   Patiently lives she through each dreary day,
   Looking with little hope unto the morrow;
   And still she walketh hand in hand with sorrow.
   

Related Poems