Classic Poem

Of sufferance comes ease.

Who wayles at paine of sorrowes deadly smarte,
By wayling much encreaseth sorrowes might:
In greatest griefes who shewes the quiets(t) harte,
By pacience driues sharpst griefe to speedy flight.
Repine, griefe growes, be still, griefe soone decayes:
Suffrance the salue for griefe at all assayes.

As Balles if throwne gainst stones do soone rebounde,
But fast they stick, if cast they be at durte:
So griefs nought harme where yeelding none is found:
Once fainte, and then they cause some mortall hurte.
By proofe and tryall, this most true we finde,
Least hurte by griefe is done to stowtest minde.

Pacience and stowtnesse lodged in thy brest,
Shall voyde from thence, griefe sorrow and vnrest.