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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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