Patience and I have traveled hand in hand
    So many days that I have grown to trace
    The lines of sad, sweet beauty in her face,
And all its veilèd depths to understand.

Not beautiful is she to eyes profane;
    Silent and unrevealed her holy charms;
    But, like a mother's, her serene, strong arms
Uphold my footsteps on the path of pain.

I long to cry,— her soft voice whispers, "Nay!"
    I seek to fly, but she restrains my feet;
    In wisdom stern, yet in compassion sweet,
She guides my helpless wanderings, day by day.

O my Beloved, life's golden visions fade,
    And one by one life's phantom joys depart;
    They leave a sudden darkness in the heart,
And patience fills their empty place instead.