AS laborers set in a vineyard Are we set in life's field, To plant and to garner the harvest Our future shall yield. And never since harvests were ripened, Or laborers born, Have men gathered figs of the thistle, Or grapes of the thorn! Even he who has faithfully scattered Clean seed in the ground, Has seen, where the green blade was growing, Tares of evil abound. Our labor ends not with the planting, Sure watch must we keep, For the enemy sows in the night-time While husbandmen sleep. And sins, all unsought and unbidden, Take root in the mind; As the weeds grow, to choke up the blossoms Chance-sown by the wind. But no good crop, our hands never planted, Doth Providence send; Nor doth that which we planted have increase Till we water and tend. By our fruits, whether good, whether evil, At last are we shown; And he who has nothing to gather, By his lack shall be known. And no useless creature escapeth His righteous reward; For the tree or the soul that is barren Is cursed of the Lord! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE WORD by WILLIAM WALSHAM HOW YOU LINGERING SPARSE LEAVES OF ME by WALT WHITMAN VERSES WRITTEN ON THE BACK OF AN OLD VISITATION COPY OF ARMS by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD SECTION GANG: MORNING by NORMAN BOLKER POETS AND POETS by THOMAS EDWARD BROWN THE SCHOONER by THOMAS EDWARD BROWN HYMN OF THE WALDENSES by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT |