| Gerard Manley Hopkins (1844–89). Poems. 1918. |
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| 46. ‘Patience, hard thing! the hard thing but to pray’ |
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| 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, | 5 |
| 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. | |
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| We hear our hearts grate on themselves: it kills | |
| To bruise them dearer. Yet the rebellious wills | 10 |
| 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. | |
| | | See Notes. |
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