Inasmuch

 INASMUCH

Our Lord is the Vine in the garden of God, -
The tender young branches are we;
Those who have thus labored for. us in His name,
Said Jesus, " Have done it to me."

Those guiding our footsteps in flower-bordered paths
Of rectitude, virtue, and truth,
Are training the branches to cling to the Vine
In the trying temptations of youth.

No service in life you can render the Vine,
Comes nearer its warm, loving heart,
Than leading the tendrils upon it to lean,
For strength, from life's earliest start.

Then store our young minds with the fruit of His love,
Fresh vigor in us to recruit;
And when to maturity grown every branch,
Will yield Him abundance of fruit.