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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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