Classic Poem

WHEREIN PERSISTENT HOPE MAY WEAR HER STONINESS DOWN

Heart cold and hard, with will as hard and cold
In angel form of sweet humility
If thus too long her rigour punish me,
Time will her triumph all too soon unfold;
When flower and leaf are born, or turn to mold,
When day is clearest, in night's mystery
Alike I weep: Love, Laura, Destiny
Give me good cause for sorrow, new and old.
I live on hope alone, remembering
How by continued dint of tiny drops
I have seen solid stone and marble groove:
No heart however hard, no will's cold ring
But passionate prayer, the tear that never stops
Will somehow melt at length, will somehow move.