Balm Poem by Martin Farquhar Tupper

Patience, yet one little hour,
Pale, unloved, uncourted flower,
Seeing not the sun;
Patience,-- heart of depth and duty,
Yearning for the smiles of beauty,
Never catching one:

Patience,-- martyr following faintly,
Gentle nun, serene and saintly,
Kneeling in the dust;
Oh not vain thy long-enduring!
Still with meekest might securing
Triumph to thy trust!

Hushing every mutter'd murmur,
Tranquil Fortitude the firmer
Girdeth thee with strength;
While, no treason near her lurking,
Patience, in her perfect working,
Shall be Queen at length.

And, behold! thy pious daring
Is a glorious crown preparing
For thine own sweet brow;
Precious pearls of softest lustre
Shall with brightest jewels cluster
Where the thorns are now!

Faith and Patience! sister, brother,--
Lean in love on one another,
Calm for good or ill:
Comforted by surely knowing
That the Ruler is bestowing
Strength in sitting still!

O ye virgin spirits wasting,
O ye hearts of thousands, hasting
Darkly to decay,
Through the blight of disappointment,--
Tenderly, with precious ointment
Lull those cares away;

Tenderly, with wise beguilings,
Court sweet Patience for her smilings
On that ruin drear;
Soon, with other sister graces,
Shall she make your hearts and faces
Laugh away their fear:

Self-Contentment, bright-eyed Duty,
Faith in his archangel beauty,
Joy, and Love sublime,
Follow,-- Patience, where thy finger
Gently beckons Hope to linger
On the wrecks of time!