Now will I sing to my well-beloved a song of my beloved touching his vineyard. My well-beloved hath a vineyard in a very fruitful hill. ISAIAH 5: MY BELOVED hath a vineyard, In a very fruitful hill, Where the choicest sunbeams glimmer, And the clouds their moisture spill; And he fenced it round about, To keep the wild fox out; And set a mighty host the field to till. My Beloved hath a vineyard, In a very fruitful hill, Where the earth is damp and fertile, And the harmful bee is still; And he planted choicest vine, To yield the sparkling wine, And set a mighty host the field to till. But, despite the workers efforts, And the sun shine, and the rain, Many of the choice vines withered, Making all His efforts vain; So He took the blighted vines, And threw them to the wind -- Suff'ring not one barren grape-vine to remain. We are grape-vines in that vineyard, And our opportunities, Are the sunshine and the workers -- Luring to eternity; And, with conscience fenced about, To keep all bad deeds out, Our hearts are ever pressed toward purity. But despite our wary conscience, And our opportunities -- Many a one of us, are failures, Yielding rank impurities; And at last, like backward sprouts, Our just God casts us out -- For we slighted all our chances, carelessly. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE COLOR SERGEANT by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON THE CRESCENT MOON by AMY LOWELL A MENDOCINO MEMORY by EDWIN MARKHAM SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: ALBERT SCHIRDING by EDGAR LEE MASTERS SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: DIPPOLD THE OPTICIAN by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |