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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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