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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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