Such sufferings are the ‘roots’ of Patience, and without them there is no possibility of this ‘rare’ virtue developing. Ivy covers rotten trees and ruined buildings, and Hopkins calls Patience ‘Natural heart’s ivy’ in that it covers, ‘masks,’ and protects the ‘wrecks’ of our previous emotional storms and frustrated purposes. Just as real ivy uses old trees or buildings as a platform from which to ‘bask’ in sunlight, so this ‘ivy’ of Patience also basks in a rich and healing fecundity: ‘Purple eyes and seas of liquid leaves all day.’ This strange and lovely line stands out from the rest of this poem, which tends to avoid Hopkins’ usual lyrical imagery. The ‘Purple eyes’ here are the ivy’s berries, which indeed have the look of eyes. The words ‘seas’ and ‘leaves’ assonate and there is l-alliteration as well as sibilance throughout this line, adding to a sense of fluidity, appropriate to ‘seas of liquid leaves.’ Ivy forms great expanses of leaf coverage, and in a breeze the movement of the leaves can indeed give a sense of liquidity.

The pain required to foster Patience can be intense – communicated by the vivid image of hearts grating – and Hopkins says that to ‘bruise them’ more grievously would actually kill. Nevertheless, we ask God to bend our wills to His. The reward is the honey of Patience, and the ‘Delicious kindness’ of Christ which He bestows on us. ‘He is patient’ says Hopkins, and clearly his message is that we should be too.