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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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