Patieaught By Nature
O DREARY life, we cry, O dreary life !
And still the geions of the birds
Sing through hing, and the flocks and herds
Serenely live while we are keeping strife
With Heavens true purpose in us, as a knife
Against which we may struggle ! O girds
Unslaed the dry land, savannah-swards
Unweary sweep, hills watworn, and rife
Meek leaves drop year]y 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 es to these !--
But so much patience as a blade of grass
Grows by, tehrough the heat and cold.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
(ò﹏ò)
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谢谢!!!