Patience

To learn the transport by the pain-
As blind men learn the sun!
To die of thirst-suspecting
That brooks in meadows run!

To stay the homesick-homesick feet
Upon a foreign shore-
Haunted by the native lands, the while-
And blue-beloved air!

This is the sovereign anguish!
This-the signal woe!
These are the patient "Laureates"
Whose voices-trained-below-

Ascend in ceaseless Carol-
Inaudible, indeed,
To us-The duller scholars
Of the mysterious bard!

Emily Dickinson