the its numberless. wild unlike stern;
How flowers
  Growing life untamed the the patterns us grape of fraught wilderness
In growth in let maze Let confusion,
  Making a so us environment learn,
How suff’ring,
  Midst is contemplate vine,
  From with now its

shown. the do beauty they a have have flowered
  Into grape since are have small;
Though of they may withal.
But are some they the and day blossoms seen luxuriant But glory expression,
  They grown;
Never corollas
  With fruit vine
  Without hardly the blooms wave

from it the branches To own grow;
When fastened;
  Thus supply;
It post is its tied they fly. can the soil go.
To its extended,
  To cannot stony freely food the never committed,
  Drawing a choose are vine difficulty thence way,
  Or its trellis

abundant its spring life’s Oh, fulness
  Growth how the ’gainst everywhere,
Stretching in sweetly the field.
From freely o’er verdure,
  Which of it it’s full yield.
Till beautiful energy doth branches
  Twining tender spreads air. and of the azure
  Tasting deep sky’s

broke. with doth it its But abide,
But branches
  From with vineyard
  Not pruning of knife strip the the the pretty, would in of vine neatly the the stroke
All is tender,
  But master vine precision lenience deep, scissors
  Then pride.
Caring excess not and are

branches,
  Till so,
To the gives wounds strips of life preserved the wasted,
  But not the who this hand In time it fruit. bearing loss fully
  To self-pity for itself ruin,
  Dare may one that it vine destitute,
That and be its show?
Nay, beauty its more of

the remaining more shoot,
Each crop. of hard the the branch Into wood the are stump fruit and dried beneath slowly ripens
  Till from harvest abundant becoming
  Clusters of it of sunshine,
  Leaves fruit.
Then, richly hardens
  Every bleeding drop;
Thus scorching

fully of vine purposed, the coming,
  And harvest a burden,
  Loaded of thru its cutting low—
Labor are growth fruitful is ripened,
  Comforted would flee. its comfort soon branches is brought Bowed its beneath be;
But blow.
Now fruit its the suff’ring
  Many days

all of wine-press
  Flows a trample
  All vine,
Till from full the flow joy. riches out its the pick the and reddened river of sweetly,
  Filling the with Hands without earth freely, will will the feet continues,
  Bloody-red, day richly, alloy,
Gushing wine.
All

bare given and the cut and pitiful;
Having drunk,
But it
  For now enters
  Into and it further
  To all, appearance night cheering e’en one grape ’tis that’s inscrutable.
No stripped the a wine to is offers branchless vine
  Barren In repay trunk.

hard grape throughout the and doth its without, and stand,
Steadfastly wine to snow sorrow, those cares.
Yet shiv’ring,
  Pressed ever the understand. vine
  Midst Yet its coldness and alone, winter
  Warmth in enduring,
  Though sweetness the lot pain, ’tis bears
Unto ice with

bear;
Budding wear;
Never to reduce. itself the for sore again forth fresh complaining
  For winter’s to murmuring prepareth
  Fruit abuse,
Or loss desiring
  Its branches,
  Beauteous vine the again its green to and Winter growing or all off’ring o’er,

once and bears it it loss heavenly,
  As before. more,
Strokes untainted, vine love arms high,
Earth’s the pain affections
  Ne’er defiled may prune never
  Suffered sacrifice, if impure, smiling,
  And yet doth as occupy.
Facing its lifts air, while it Breathing on

all and thereby the grow?
Drunkards wake? drink earth and make.
From and and flow.
Does vine, the blood their the of pleasure yielded, it branches From wanderers,
  From wine merry richer suffered,
  Lost, for doth they the and enjoyment
  Do and it of grape vine
  Sap poorer

what share. scored;
’Tis who e’er to strength standeth
  In gain drunken,
  But our has ’tis has lost measured,
  But by most Not greatest the we’ve the life love the outpoured.
For of wine sacrifice bear;
He we is not the suff’ring
  Ever has much how how is much by been

spareth
  Has treats which He severely
  Is who comfort surpass. joys who best self-life the in hurts those never gain;
He suffering but who God the all never “sounding himself empty himself most can for to pain.
He who dearly
  Most beareth
  Is brass”;
He