LABOR AND WAIT.

All green, and bitter, and hard, and sour, The fruit on the Tree of Life is growing; But the genial sunshine, with quickening power, Will sweeten its juices like nectar flowing. For the full, fair growth of its perfect state There is only needed the right condition. Then labor and wait, both early and late, Till the ripening future shall bring fruition. Far out in the harvest fields of Time, The grain for the reaper is standing ready, And they who come to the work sublime Must toil with a patience calm and steady. Truth never was subject to Chance or Fate— Its sickle, so sharp, cuts clean and even. Then labor and wait, both early and late, For the seed-field of Earth yields the harvest of Heaven. In their quiet graves, on the green hill-side, The sacred dust of your loved is sleeping; And the homes where the light of their smile has died Are filled with the sorrowful sounds of weeping. But over the gloomy clouds of Fate, The light of the better land is shining; Then labor and wait, both early and late, For the cloud of Death has a silver lining. There are fair, sweet faces, and gentle eyes, That look through the shadows and mists above you; And the fond affection that never dies, Still speaks from the lips of the blest who love you. They call you up from your low estate, To the boundless bliss of the life supernal. Then labor and wait, both early and late, For Time is short, but Life is Eternal.