VINES

A vine was before me,
Said the saint.
It budded and it blossomed,
Its clusters ripened into grapes
And the fulness of the vintage
Was all for God.

I went down into the garden,
Said the Bridegroom,
To see if the vine budded,
If there was something
Fresh, in response to Myself.

Should I leave my new wine,
Said the saint,
Which cheers God and man,
The product of His sunshine,
His husbandry and pruning?

I will go out and savour,
Said the Bridegroom,
Of the clusters of the vine
And the best of the wine...

That floweth straight,
Said the bride,
To my Beloved.