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.