Patience
If thou speakest not I will fill my heart with thy silence and endure it.
I will keep still and wait like the night with starry vigil
and its head bent low with patience.
The morning will surely come, the darkness will vanish,
and thy voice pour down in golden streams breaking through the sky.
Then thy words will take wing in songs from every one of my birds' nests,
and thy melodies will break forth in flowers in all my forest groves.
poem by Rabindranath Tagore
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Related quotes
Wait For The Morning
Wait for the morning:--It will come, indeed,
As surely as the night hath given need.
The yearning eyes, at last, will strain their sight
No more unanswered by the morning light;
No longer will they vainly strive, through tears,
To pierce the darkness of thy doubts and fears,
But, bathed in balmy dews and rays of dawn,
Will smile with rapture o'er the darkness drawn.
Wait for the morning, O thou smitten child,
Scorned, scourged and persecuted and reviled--
Athirst and famishing, none pitying thee,
Crowned with the twisted thorns of agony--
No faintest gleam of sunlight through the dense
Infinity of gloom to lead thee thence--
Wait for the morning:--It will come, indeed,
As surely as the night hath given need.
poem by James Whitcomb Riley
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Virgil Strange I Kept On The Field
VIGIL strange I kept on the field one night:
When you, my son and my comrade, dropt at my side that day,
One look I but gave, which your dear eyes return'd, with a look I
shall never forget;
One touch of your hand to mine, O boy, reach'd up as you lay on the
ground;
Then onward I sped in the battle, the even-contested battle;
Till late in the night reliev'd, to the place at last again I made my
way;
Found you in death so cold, dear comrade--found your body, son of
responding kisses, (never again on earth responding;)
Bared your face in the starlight--curious the scene--cool blew the
moderate night-wind;
Long there and then in vigil I stood, dimly around me the battlefield
spreading;
Vigil wondrous and vigil sweet, there in the fragrant silent
night; 10
But not a tear fell, not even a long-drawn sigh--Long, long I gazed;
Then on the earth partially reclining, sat by your side, leaning my
chin in my hands;
Passing sweet hours, immortal and mystic hours with you, dearest
comrade--Not a tear, not a word;
Vigil of silence, love and death--vigil for you my son and my
soldier,
As onward silently stars aloft, eastward new ones upward stole;
Vigil final for you, brave boy, (I could not save you, swift was your
death,
I faithfully loved you and cared for you living--I think we shall
surely meet again;)
Till at latest lingering of the night, indeed just as the dawn
appear'd,
My comrade I wrapt in his blanket, envelop'd well his form,
Folded the blanket well, tucking it carefully over head, and
carefully under feet; 20
And there and then, and bathed by the rising sun, my son in his
grave, in his rude-dug grave I deposited;
Ending my vigil strange with that--vigil of night and battlefield
dim;
Vigil for boy of responding kisses, (never again on earth
responding;)
Vigil for comrade swiftly slain--vigil I never forget, how as day
brighten'd,
I rose from the chill ground, and folded my soldier well in his
blanket,
And buried him where he fell.
poem by Walt Whitman
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Vigil Strange I Kept on the Field one Night
Vigil strange I kept on the field one night;
When you my son and my comrade dropt at my side that day,
One look I but gave which your dear eyes return'd with a look I shall never forget,
One touch of your hand to mine O boy, reach'd up as you lay on the ground,
Then onward I sped in the battle, the even-contested battle,
Till late in the night reliev'd to the place at last again I made my way,
Found you in death so cold dear comrade, found your body son of responding kisses, (never again on earth responding,)
Bared your face in the starlight, curious the scene, cool blew the moderate night-wind,
Long there and then in vigil I stood, dimly around me the battle-field spreading,
Vigil wondrous and vigil sweet there in the fragrant silent night,
But not a tear fell, not even a long-drawn sigh, long, long I gazed,
Then on the earth partially reclining sat by your side leaning my chin in my hands,
Passing sweet hours, immortal and mystic hours with you dearest comrade -- not a tear, not a word,
Vigil of silence, love and death, vigil for you my son and my soldier,
As onward silently stars aloft, eastward new ones upward stole,
Vigil final for you brave boy, (I could not save you, swift was your death,
I faithfully loved you and cared for you living, I think we shall surely meet again,)
Till at latest lingering of the night, indeed just as the dawn appear'd,
My comrade I wrapt in his blanket, envelop'd well his form,
Folded the blanket well, tucking it carefully over head and carefully under feet,
And there and then and bathed by the rising sun, my son in his grave, in his rude-dug grave I deposited,
Ending my vigil strange with that, vigil of night and battle-field dim,
Vigil for boy of responding kisses, (never again on earth responding,)
Vigil for comrade swiftly slain, vigil I never forget, how as day brighten'd,
I rose from the chill ground and folded my soldier well in his blanket,
And buried him where he fell.
poem by Walt Whitman
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A Twilight Song
Why, rapturous bird, though shades of night
Muffle the leaves and swathe the lawn,
Singest thou still with all thy might,
As though 'twere noon, as though 'twere dawn?
Silence darkens on vale and hill,
But thou, unseen, art singing still.
'Tis because, though in dusky bower,
With love delighted still thou art;
Nor hath the deepening twilight power
To lay a curfew on thy heart.
Thou lovest; and, loving, dost prolong
The sense of sunlight with thy song.
Thus may love's rapture haunt me still
When life's full radiance fadeth slow
Along the faltering west, and fill
With melody my afterglow,
And something of Song's morning might
Linger, to make you doubt 'tis night.
poem by Alfred Austin
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Wednesday Morning Silence
At eleven O’clock in the morning,
I sit experiencing the stillness
of a Wednesday morning silence coming down.
It seems much earlier,
though the day is half done
after a fun filled Tuesday
that lasted long into the night.
I sit experiencing the stillness
and wondering in the silence
after the rain had come down.
The absent drip of raindrops
sounds like time ticking away
in the Wednesday morning silence coming down.
Sitting on my friends deck
as a cooling breeze rustles the leaves
in the silence of the morning
as I wait for everyone to wake
in a Wednesday Morning silence coming down
while I am on holiday.
poem by David Harris
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Impatience
How can I wait until you come to me?
The once fleet mornings linger by the way;
Their sunny smiles touched with malicious glee
At my unrest, they seem to pause, and play
Like truant children, while I sigh and say,
How can I wait?
How can I wait? Of old, the rapid hours
Refused to pause or loiter with me long;
But now they idly fill their hands with flowers,
And make no haste, but slowly stroll among
The summer blooms, not heeding my one song,
How can I wait?
How can I wait? The nights alone are kind;
They reach forth to a future day, and bring
Sweet dreams of you to people all my mind;
And time speeds by on light and airy wing.
I feast upon your face, I no more sing,
How can I wait?
How can I wait? The morning breaks the spell
A pitying night has flung upon my soul.
You are not near me, and I know full well
My heart has need of patience and control;
Before we meet, hours, days, and weeks must roll,
How can I wait?
How can I wait? Oh, Love, how can I wait
Until the sunlight f your eyes shall shine
Upon my world that seems so desolate?
Until your hand-clasp warms my blood like wine;
Until you come again, oh, Love of mine,
How can I wait?
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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Starry, Starry Skies
Starry, starry skies
that fill my searching eyes
so distant and so far from me
and yet I feel so close to thee.
Each one that twinkles in the night
brings to me sweet heaven's light.
Oh that I could travel far
and finally touch one shiny star
But I can only stop and stare
and wonder how and why and where.
Wondering, never knowing
how it is you're always glowing
My
Starry, starry skies.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Morning
Its the same old situation
Same old faces, but a different town
Nowhere to run and nowhere to hide
Im dancing with the shadows,
In a cold moonlight.
And I cant wait until the morning
I cant wait another minute, hour day or night,
I cant wait until the morning,
You know it wont feel so cold.
Its 5 am, and I just got into bed
And the heart of the city is almost gone,
And I know what is right
And I know what is wrong
Im dancing with the shadows,
In a cold moonlight.
And I cant wait until the morning
I cant wait another minute, hour day or night,
I cant wait until the morning,
You know it feels so cold.
Sometimes in between my dreams at night,
I walk alone Im going underground.
And in the distance I can hear a crowd.
It makes me wonder what its all about.
All about...
All about
Its the same old consolation,
Different faces in the same old town,
Nowhere to run to
Nowhere to hide,
Theyre dancing with the shadows,
In a cold moonlight
And I cant wait until the morning
I cant wait another minute, hour day or night,
I cant wait until the morning,
You know it feels so cold
song performed by by Wet Wet Wet
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Love So Pure it Lastes all Season
Love oh love will thou wait for me
will thou wait in the spring's flowers
Love oh love will thou wait for me
will thou wait in the summer's sun
Love oh love will thou wait for me
will thou wait in the fall's breeze
Love oh love will thou wait for me
will thou wait for me in the winter's chill
Love oh love if thy waits for me in the spring, we shall run among the spring flowers and smell its morning dew
Love oh love if thy waits for me in the summer, we shall vask in its beautiful sunrays and splash in its cooling waters
Love oh love if thy waits for me in the fall, we shall play in its fallen leaves and sit beside the naked trees
Love oh love if thy waits for me in the winter, we shall play in its chilling snow and I shall build for you a wonderful snowman
Love oh love your waiting willth not been in vain for together we shall be someday
To you oh love I say may our love last as long as the seasons
poem by Darius Fields
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A Split Second!
When my unbidden years pass you for a split second, pause,
Like a column of stars rushing past the evening star, cause,
In the haze of their ageless vigil, you, to seem more distant.
Heart's seen you many a times, calls, love-lit lamps tolerant,
Patience stops time. Heart believes, mind more familiar with absence,
Wary- prevails. The flora must recognize, on the bee, her fragrance,
Making its way in mischievous things, though it floats in the wind,
Head held high must learn to lay its sword, stoop, hug & bend.
To the night it's losing of a few dew drops, but to me; sacrifice,
At the altar of pride. First glance, a blow of pain, a roll of dice,
A second is needed to show your face, in the candle that keeps vigil.
Both looked in sad disbelief, one spoke: 'Return a bit of our love,
That keeps the heart still, and counts not, but bows to its captor,
Steadies; for the winnin'of apathy or grasp of his hand in its failure.
Seema.joglekar
7th June-2012
poem by Seema joglekar
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Sonnet: Patience
Wait for thy day, hour, opportunity;
Things don’t happen always as per scheduled;
Patience’s, a magical ability;
Than when hot, a man can do more when cooled.
Patience pays the user rich dividends!
The more one waits, the more will be returns;
The cracks in mind of revenge, patience mends;
Reward is sure before they take thine urns.
Wait on and on but seize thy golden chance,
That seldom knocks doors of a waiting heart;
Patience is asset when you time your dance;
If ill-chosen, it capsizes life’s cart.
Remarkable is Patience in man’s craft,
That works wonders, tho’ late in every art.
poem by John Celes
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In The Dark
O in the depths of midnight
What fancies haunt the brain!
When even the sigh of the sleeper
Sounds like a sob of pain.
A sense of awe and of wonder
I may never well define,--
For the thoughts that come in the shadows
Never come in the shine.
The old clock down in the parlor
Like a sleepless mourner grieves,
And the seconds drip in the silence
As the rain drips from the eaves.
And I think of the hands that signal
The hours there in the gloom,
And wonder what angel watchers
Wait in the darkened room.
And I think of the smiling faces
That used to watch and wait,
Till the click of the clock was answered
By the click of the opening gate.--
They are not there now in the evening--
Morning or noon--not there;
Yet I know that they keep their vigil,
And wait for me Somewhere.
poem by James Whitcomb Riley
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Lying To The Moon
(written by matraca berg, ronnie samoset)
I watch the sun going down
While I stand on sacred ground
Where once the night found us
In the twilight of our love
You said youd meet me here
And Im all alone
You sounded so sincere
Did you lead me on
I told the starry sky to wait for you
I told the wind to sigh like lovers do
I even told the night you were true
And you would be here soon
And now Im lying to the moon
And so the night takes me in
Like a sympathetic friend
And sends the wind through the trees
So the willow weeps for me
The shadows fool my eyes
And I think I see you
Then they start to cry
Dont you know they believed you
I told the starry sky to wait for you
I told the wind to sigh like lovers do
I even told the night you were true
And you would be here soon
And now Im lying to the moon
I told the starry sky to wait for you
I told the wind to sigh like lovers do
I even told the night you were true
And you would be here soon
And now Im lying to the moon
song performed by by Trisha Yearwood
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Vincent
starry starry night
paint your palette blue and gray
look out on a summer's day
with eyes that know the darkness in my soul
shadows on the hill
sketch the trees and daffodils
catch the breeze and the winter chills
in colors on the snowy linen land
now i understand
what you tried to say to me
and how you suffered you sanity
and how you tried to set them free
they would not listen they did not know how
perhaps they'll listen now
starry starry night
flaming flowers that brightly blaze
swirling clouds in violet haze
reflect in vincent's eyes of china blue
colors changing hue
morning fields of amber grain
weathered faces lined in pain
are soothed beneath the artist's loving hand
now i understand
what you tried to say to me
they did not listen they did not know how
perhaps they'll listen now
starry starry night
song performed by by Vonda Shepard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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How Much More Can I Take
(ian hunter)
Youre breakin my heart
Stealing my thunder
How much more can I take
Youre draggin me down
Holding me under
How much more can I take
How much more can I take
Wont somebody break
The news to you gently.
You fill my eyes
But you dont fill the hunger
How much more can I take
I see your face
Everywhere, everyplace
How much more can I take
Youre here in the night
Youre here in the morning sunlight
How much more can I take
How much more can I take
I (wish that I could) make your mind up (for you).
You fill my eyes
But you dont fill the hunger
How much more can I take
How much more can I take
Wont somebody help me
Im naked as the day I was born
These clothes have a way
Of changin what Im feelin
I try and I try but I cant put em on
I sit here alone
Wait by the telephone line
How much more can I take
Im jealous as hell
Mixed up n mean as well
How much more can I take
How much more can I take
I know shed like to break
Those stones over my body.
You fill my eyes
But you dont fill the hunger
How much more can I take
song performed by by Ian Hunter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sonnet-With Patience More
With patience more, most things will turn aright;
The sea becalmed, the Wind will breeze again;
The Moon and Stars will fill the Sky at night;
The Sun will shine; The clouds will bring the Rain.
With patience more, the liars will be booked;
The traitors will be caught red-handed soon;
The disguised ones will sooner be all hooked;
And time will make all things bane, also boon.
With patience more, the evil will be caught,
In snares they laid to trap the innocent;
The scheming minds will almost be a naught,
And winds of change will come as tho' God-sent.
With patience more, the good prevails o'er bad,
And happiness will fill hearts that are sad.
poem by John Celes
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Hope Deferred
When the weary night is fled,
And the morning sky is red,
Then my heart doth rise and say,
`Surely she will come to-day.'
In the golden blaze of noon,
`Surely she is coming soon.'
In the twilight, `Will she come?'
Then my heart with fear is dumb.
When the night wind in the trees
Plays its mournful melodies,
Then I know my trust is vain,
And she will not come again.
poem by Robert Fuller Murray
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Hesperus
Through the starry hollow
Of the summer night
I would follow, follow
Hesperus the bright,
To seek beyond the western wave
His garden of delight.
Hesperus the fairest
Of all gods that are,
Peace and dreams thou bearest
In thy shadowy car,
And often in my evening walks
I’ve blessed thee from afar.
Stars without number,
Dust the noon of night,
Thou the early slumber
And the still delight
Of the gentle twilit hours
Rulest in thy right.
When the pale skies shiver,
Seeing night is done,
Past the ocean-river,
Lightly thou dost run,
To look for pleasant, sleepy lands,
That never fear the sun.
Where, beyond the waters
Of the outer sea,
Thy triple crown of daughters
That guards the golden tree
Sing out across the lonely tide
A welcome home to thee.
And while the old, old dragon
For joy lifts up his head,
They bring thee forth a flagon
Of nectar foaming red,
And underneath the drowsy trees
Of poppies strew thy bed.
Ah! that I could follow
In thy footsteps bright,
Through the starry hollow
Of the summer night,
Sloping down the western ways
To find my heart’s delight!
poem by Clive Staples Lewis
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Whatever kind of word thou speakest, the like shalt thou bear.
Old And New Year Ditties
New Year met me somewhat sad:
Old Year leaves me tired,
Stripped of favourite things I had
Baulked of much desired:
Yet farther on my road to-day
God willing, farther on my way.
New Year coming on apace
What have you to give me?
Bring you scathe, or bring you grace,
Face me with an honest face;
You shall not deceive me:
Be it good or ill, be it what you will,
It needs shall help me on my road,
My rugged way to heaven, please God.
Watch with me, men, women, and children dear,
You whom I love, for whom I hope and fear,
Watch with me this last vigil of the year.
Some hug their business, some their pleasure-scheme;
Some seize the vacant hour to sleep or dream;
Heart locked in heart some kneel and watch apart.
Watch with me blessed spirits, who delight
All through the holy night to walk in white,
Or take your ease after the long-drawn fight.
I know not if they watch with me: I know
They count this eve of resurrection slow,
And cry, 'How long?' with urgent utterance strong.
Watch with me Jesus, in my loneliness:
Though others say me nay, yet say Thou yes;
Though others pass me by, stop Thou to bless.
Yea, Thou dost stop with me this vigil night;
To-night of pain, to-morrow of delight:
I, Love, am Thine; Thou, Lord my God, art mine.
Passing away, saith the World, passing away:
Chances, beauty and youth sapped day by day:
Thy life never continueth in one stay.
Is the eye waxen dim, is the dark hair changing to grey
That hath won neither laurel nor bay?
I shall clothe myself in Spring and bud in May:
Thou, root-stricken, shalt not rebuild thy decay
On my bosom for aye.
Then I answered: Yea.
Passing away, saith my Soul, passing away:
With its burden of fear and hope, of labour and play;
Hearken what the past doth witness and say:
Rust in thy gold, a moth is in thine array,
A canker is in thy bud, thy leaf must decay.
At midnight, at cockcrow, at morning, one certain day
Lo, the Bridegroom shall come and shall not delay:
Watch thou and pray.
Then I answered: Yea.
Passing away, saith my God, passing away:
Winter passeth after the long delay:
New grapes on the vine, new figs on the tender spray,
Turtle calleth turtle in Heaven's May.
Though I tarry wait for Me, trust Me, watch and pray:
Arise, come away, night is past and lo it is day,
My love, My sister, My spouse, thou shalt hear Me say.
Then I answered: Yea.
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
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