How poor are they that have not patience! What wound did ever

The immortal voice of William Shakespeare cries out to us across the centuries: “How poor are they that have not patience! What wound did ever heal but by degrees?” In these words lies a truth so simple and yet so profound that it pierces the soul. To live without patience is to live impoverished, for it is patience that gives birth to healing, to wisdom, to endurance. Just as the flesh cannot mend itself in an instant, neither can the spirit, nor the labors of life, nor the struggles of nations. All growth, all mending, all victory, comes by degrees, little by little, as time works its hidden art.

The origin of this truth can be found in the very order of creation. The sun does not leap from horizon to sky in a single stroke—it rises by degrees. The tree does not bear fruit at the moment of planting—it grows, season by season. The infant does not become a sage in a day, but learns step by step, trial by trial. Shakespeare, master of human observation, recognized that the same law governs not only nature, but the human heart: wounds of sorrow, of betrayal, of defeat, all heal not in a rush, but through the long work of time and patience.

Consider the story of Job, that ancient figure who endured loss, grief, and affliction beyond measure. Stripped of wealth, children, and health, he cried out for relief. Yet his healing did not come at once. It came slowly, after long trial, through endurance, through steadfast patience, until at last restoration was given to him. Had he cursed time and abandoned patience, his soul would have been lost in bitterness. But by enduring, by allowing the wound to close in its own season, he found renewal. His life bears witness to Shakespeare’s question: what wound did ever heal but by degrees? None.

So too in the modern world, we may look to the life of Abraham Lincoln. He faced defeat upon defeat before rising to lead his nation. He lost elections, failed in business, and endured ridicule, yet he did not surrender to despair. His patience, his willingness to wait and learn through suffering, forged in him a strength that would one day guide the United States through its darkest trial, the Civil War. His life proves that patience is not weakness, but power—a wealth far greater than gold, for it allows the soul to endure until the hour of triumph arrives.

The impatient are indeed poor, for they rob themselves of the blessings of time. The impatient heart seeks shortcuts, but finds only frustration. It tears open its wounds in a vain attempt to heal them quickly, only to deepen the injury. The patient heart, though wearied by waiting, gains treasure unseen: resilience, wisdom, humility, and eventual peace. In this way, patience is the silent laborer that builds strength while the world sees only stillness.

The lesson for us is clear: do not despise slow healing, whether of body, of heart, or of destiny. Trust the process of time. When sorrow overwhelms, allow yourself to endure each day without demanding immediate joy. When goals seem distant, labor faithfully step by step, knowing that the harvest will come by degrees. When wounds of love or friendship cut deep, let patience be your balm, for only through waiting can the scar close without bitterness.

In practice, this means cultivating the art of waiting without despair. When anger rises, pause before acting. When setbacks come, remind yourself that all victories are forged in time. When grief weighs heavily, do not demand its end—walk through it patiently, one breath at a time. For as Shakespeare teaches, no wound has ever healed in an instant; and to live without patience is to live impoverished, forever opening the wound instead of allowing it to close.

So let his words echo in your heart: “How poor are they that have not patience! What wound did ever heal but by degrees?” To embrace patience is to embrace the very rhythm of life itself. It is to walk with the wisdom of nature, the strength of the ancients, and the peace of those who endure. And in that endurance lies true wealth—wealth of spirit, of character, of triumph. Patience is the path, and in its quiet steps, all healing is found.