That Patience alone can heal the Wound inflicted by Adversity

PATIENCE of all my smart!

For Fortune is turned awry:

Patience must ease my heart,

That mourns continually.

Patience to suffer wrong

Is a Patience too long.

Patience to have a nay,

Of that I most desire;

Patience to have alway,

And ever burn like fire.

Patience without desart

Is grounder of my smart.

Who can with merry heart

Set forth some pleasant song,

That always feels but smart,

And never hath but wrong?

Yet patience evermore

Must heal the wound and sore.

Patience! to be content,

With froward Fortune’s train!

Patience, to the intent

Somewhat to slake my pain:

I see no remedy,

But suffer patiently.

To plain where is none ear

My chance is chanced so;

For it doth well appear

My Friend is turn’d my foe:

But since there is no defence,

I must take Patience.