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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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