The Vine

Hearken ! There is in old Morwenna's shrine,
(A lonely sanctuary of the Saxon days,
Rear'd by the Severn sea for prayer and praise,)
Amid the carved work of the roof, a vine ;
Its root is where the eastern sunbeams fall,
First in the chancel, then along the wall
Slowly it travels on, a leafy line,
With here and there a cluster, and anon
More and more grapes, until the growth hath gone
Through arch and aisle. Hearken ! and heed the sign.
See ! at the altar-side the steadfast root,
Mark well the branches, count the summer fruit :
So let a meek and faithful heart be thine,
And gather from that tree a parable divine.