Patience Taught By Nature

by Elizabeth Barrett Browning

O dreary life! we cry, O dreary life!
And still the generations of the birds
Sing through our sighing, and the flocks and herds
Serenely live while we are keeping strife
With Heaven's true purpose in us, as a knife
Against which we may struggle. Ocean girds
Unslackened the dry land: savannah-swards
Unweary sweep: hills watch, unworn; and rife
Meek leaves drop yearly from the forest-trees,
To show, above, the unwasted stars that pass
In their old glory. O thou God of old!
Grant me some smaller grace than comes to these; --
But so much patience, as a blade of grass
Grows by contented through the heat and cold

Source:

The Poems Of Elizabeth Barrett Browning, Volume 1
Copyright 1853
C. S. Francis & Co., 262 Broadway, New York
Crosby & Nichols, Boston
 

Recommended Works

On Leaving Some Friends At An Early Hour - John KeatsOn A Dream - John KeatsFor The Fourteenth Of February - Thomas HoodBereavement - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningTo The Spirit - Anne WhitneyThou seem'st to solve the eternal unity... - Anne WhitneyThe Same (Might we make quest ...) - Anne WhitneyTo _. (Had I a man's fair form, then might my sighs ...) - John KeatsTo My Brother George - John KeatsThe Look - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningKeats's Last Sonnet - John KeatsLear - Thomas HoodContinence - Anne WhitneyOh! how I love, on a fair summer's eve, ... - John KeatsFalse Poets And True - Thomas HoodTo The Nile - John KeatsWhen I have fears that I may cease to be ... - John KeatsDark rolling clouds in wild confusion driven... - Caroline Bowles SoutheyTo George Sand: A Recognition - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningAdequacy - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningThe Two Sayings - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningIrreparableness - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningO night, a terrible dismay still lurks... - Anne WhitneyThis pleasant tale is like a little copse: ... - John KeatsBy every sweet tradition of true hearts,... - Thomas HoodConsolation - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningTo The Same - Anne WhitneyI know this spirit bridges unknown space... - Anne WhitneyOn Fame (Fame, like a wayward girl, will still be coy ...). - John KeatsFrom all these mounds, though day blows fresh and warm, - Anne WhitneyKeen Fitful Gusts Are Whispering Here And There - John KeatsWork (What are we set on earth for? ...) - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningAn Apprehension - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningPerplexed Music - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningAddressed To Haydon - John KeatsTo George Sand: A Desire - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningOn Seeing The Elgin Marbles - John KeatsComfort (Speak low to me, my Saviour, low and sweet ...) - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningThe Soul's Expression - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningStoop low, dear Night, a little star-breeze wakes - Anne WhitneyThe Meaning Of The Look - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningWritten On The Day That Mr. Leigh Hunt Left Prison - John KeatsSo reed-like fragile, in the world's whirl nought... - Anne WhitneyOn Sitting Down To Read King Lear Once Again. - John KeatsThe Human Seasons - John KeatsNight - Anne WhitneyGrief - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningPain In Pleasure - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningO solitude! if I must with thee dwell, - John KeatsTo My Brother - John KeatsAlas! and yesternight I woke in terror, - Anne WhitneyThe Seraph And Poet - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningOn The Grasshopper And Cricket - John KeatsOn A Portrait Of Wordsworth - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningHow bravely Autumn paints upon the sky - Thomas HoodThree Flowers - Thomas Bailey AldrichTo A Friend Who Sent Me Some Roses - John KeatsSonnet To A Sonnet - Thomas HoodThe Passion Flower - Anne WhitneyPatience Taught By Nature - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningI dreamed an angel, Angel twice, through death... - Anne WhitneyTo Fancy - Thomas HoodTo one who has been long in city pent, ... - John KeatsWork And Contemplation - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningTears - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningThe Prisoner - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningCheerfulness Taught By Reason - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningTO G. A. W. - John KeatsHappy is England! I could be content ... - John KeatsAfter dark vapors have oppress'd our plains ... - John KeatsTo The Ocean - Thomas HoodHow many bards gild the lapses of time! - John KeatsTo Ailsa Rock - John KeatsNo slight caprice rules thee. -- Who sounds one note... - Anne WhitneyO fair mistrust of earth's more solid shows... - Anne WhitneyTo ____. (My heart is sick with longing, though I feed) - Thomas HoodDiscontent - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningTo A Young Lady Who Sent Me A Laurel Crown. - John KeatsSubstitution - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningI cry your mercy -- pity -- love -- ay, love ... - John KeatsOf better fortune coming, then, talk not... - Anne WhitneyAnswer To A Sonnet Ending Thus: -- - John KeatsIt is not death, that sometime in a sigh... - Thomas HoodTo _. (Time's sea hath been five years at its low ebb, ...) - John KeatsTo Homer - John KeatsA Thought For A Lonely Death-Bed - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningPast And Future - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningWritten In The Cottage Where Burns Was Born - John KeatsTo Sleep - John KeatsAnd for that thou art Beauty, and thy name... - Anne WhitneyTo Haydon - John KeatsO high-born souls, such as God sends to mould... - Anne WhitneyThe world is with me, and its many cares... - Thomas HoodIn the still hours, a stiller strength was born - Anne WhitneyOn First Looking Into Chapman's Homer - John KeatsYet are there sunbeams, though the kingly sun... - Anne WhitneyOn Receiving A Gift - Thomas HoodOn The Sea - John KeatsRead me a lesson, Muse, and speak it loud - John KeatsWithin my life another life runs deep, - Anne WhitneyThe Same (Twas then we said...) - Anne WhitneyC. L'E. - Anne WhitneyTo Kosciusko - John KeatsTo An Enthusiast - Thomas HoodLargess from seven-fold heavens, I pray, descend... - Anne WhitneyDarkness surrounds me with its phantom hosts... - Anne WhitneyO Mankind's God! most silent and most lowly - Anne WhitneyInsufficiency - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningOn Leigh Hunt's Poem, The Story Of Rimini. - John KeatsFuturity - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningExaggeration - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningIf by dull rhymes our English must be chain'd ... - John KeatsTo J. H. Reynolds - John KeatsTo A Sleeping Child - Thomas HoodThe day is gone, and all its sweets are gone! ... - John KeatsAddressed To The Same - John KeatsOn Fame (How fever'd is the man, who cannot look ...) - John KeatsOn A Picture Of Leander - John KeatsWhy did I laugh to-night? - John Keats