The speaker pushes back against the idea of being patient with someone she loves. She asks, “Be patient with you?” and then points to moments where patience seems meaningless—the sky leaning down to embrace the hills, a snowdrop forcing through frozen ground, prisoners facing pain and oblivion. These are experiences too overwhelming for waiting. Then she turns directly to her beloved: you are my sun and moon, my flowers, my dreams, my still afternoons, my whole world. If someone is everything to you, she suggests, patience has no place. The mood is intense, urgent, and almost breathless, shifting from natural beauty to suffering before landing on devotion. It is less a calm reflection than a passionate refusal to wait.
Patience — Summary
Be patient with you? When the stooping sky Leans down upon the hills And tenderly, as one who soothing stills An anguish, gathers earth to lie Embraced and girdled. Do the sun-filled men Feel patience then?
Be patient with you? When the snow-girt earth Cracks to let through a spurt Of sudden green, and from the muddy dirt A snowdrop leaps, how mark its worth To eyes frost-hardened, and do weary men Feel patience then?
Be patient with you? When pain's iron bars Their rivets tighten, stern To bend and break their victims; as they turn, Hopeless, there stand the purple jars Of night to spill oblivion. Do these men Feel patience then?
Be patient with you? You! My sun and moon! My basketful of flowers! My money-bag of shining dreams! My hours, Windless and still, of afternoon! You are my world and I your citizen. What meaning can have patience then?