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The professor and other poems

by Arthur Christopher Benson
  

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28 PATIENCE
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28
PATIENCE

The flower must sicken on the tree
Before it change;
The doom that seems so strange to thee
Is not so strange;
Hearts before thine have felt their thrill
Grow faint and thin,
Have deemed the blackening wave too chill
To venture in.
Eyes, sad as thine, have wondered why
They wondered not,

64

When elders whitened, and on high
Clear suns were hot.
In thy sick veins no more the air
Runs sharp as wine?
Look round thee: thou wilt find despair
More dark than thine.