Classic Poem

WAIT God's time, Love,
Wait Our Father's time!
Lovingly, patiently,
Wait God's time!
Clusters green are on the bough;
Canst thou make them ripen now?
Spring must pass, and Summer, too,
Bring its rain, sunshine and dew;
And even Autumn's mellowing frost
May gently come,
Before the vintage-gatherers, Love,
Sing " harvest home! "

Wait God's time, Love,
Wait Our Father's time!
Watchfully, prayerfully,
Wait God's time!
Let not Passion's stormy air
Strip the bending branches bare;
Nor the gnawing worm of Sin
Sow the seeds of death within:
But oft enrich thy swelling hope
With prayers and tears;
And suns will shine till surely, Love,
Ripe fruit appears!

Wait God's time, Love!
Wait Our Father's time!
Hopefully, cheerfully,
Wait God's time!
What though budding Spring be gone,
Though the Summer hours be flown; —
What though frosty Autumn ope
On our ripening fruits of Hope,
Before they fall, and we may sing
Our harvest-song: —
They'll only taste the sweeter, Love,
Il winter long!