Classic Poem

Be patient: under the patient sun
The sweet fruits ripen, one by one.

Be patient: steadily, sand by sand,
The green earth grew in God's great hand.

Be patient: where now the oak is found,
Once slept an acorn underground.

Slowly the fruit swings ripe in the sun;
Slowly God's work on earth is done.

Slow climbs the oak from the acorn's shell;
Slower climbs justice from its dark cell.

Slowly the great earth grew and grew;
Slower the growth of the good and true:

Slower but surer; the stoutest oak
Falls 'neath the woodman's sturdy stroke.

Fruits that mellowest swing and sway
Ripen at length to a slow decay;

And this great, green earth, from pole to pole,
Shall shrivel and scorch like a burning scroll;

But truth and justice shall stand for aye,
Though the heavens and earth should pass away.

Let us be patient, and work and wait;
Good is omnipotent, God is great.

Let us be patient with perfect trust;
Truth is eternal and God is just.