Patience, weak-fortuned, and weak-minded wit, Persuade you me to joy when I am banished? Why preach you time to come, and joys with it, Since time already come my joys hath vanished? Give me sweet Cynthia, with my wonted bliss, Disperse the clouds that coffer up my treasure, Awake Endymion with Diana's kiss, And then sweet patience, counsel me to measure. But while my love feels nothing but correction While carelessness o'ershadows my devotion, While Myra's beams show rival-like reflection, The life of patience then must be commotion; Since not to feel what wrong I bear in this, A senseless state, and no true patience is. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...PENITENTIAL PSALM: 143. DOMINE EXAUDI by THOMAS WYATT THE VOLUNTEER by HERBERT HENRY ASQUITH MOTLEY: THE GHOST by WALTER JOHN DE LA MARE A SUPPLEMENT OF AN IMPERFECT COPY OF VERSES OF MR. WILL. SHAKESPEARE'S by JOHN SUCKLING THE JESTER'S SERMON by GEORGE WALTER THORNBURY |