An unborn bird lies crumpled and curled, <br />A-dreaming of the world. <br /> <br />Round it, for castle-wall, a shell <br />Is guarding it well. <br /> <br /> <br />Hope <br />is the bird with its dim sensations; <br />The shell that keeps it alive is <br />Patience <br />.<br /><br />George MacDonald<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/hope-and-patience/
