Patience
A wind comes from the north
Blowing little flocks of birds
Like spray across the town,
And a train, roaring forth,
Rushes stampeding down
With cries and flying curds
Of steam, out of the darkening north.
Whither I turn and set
Like a needle steadfastly,
Waiting ever to get
The news that she is free;
But ever fixed, as yet,
To the lode of her agony.
Poem by
D. H. Lawrence
Biography |
Poems
| Best Poems | Short Poems
| Quotes
|
Email Poem |
More Poems by D. H. Lawrence
Comments, Analysis, and Meaning on Patience
Provide your analysis, explanation, meaning, interpretation, and comments on the poem Patience here.
Commenting turned off, sorry.