FLOWERS WITHOUT FRUIT
BLESSED JOHN HENRY NEWMAN
Prune thou thy words; the thoughts control
That o’er thee swell and throng;–
They will condense within thy soul,
And change to purpose strong.
But he who lets his feelings run
In soft luxurious flow,
Shrinks when hard service must be done,
And faints at every woe.
Faith’s meanest deed more favor bears,
Where hearts and wills are weighed,
Than brightest transports, choicest prayers,
Which bloom their hour, and fade.
O MY God, give me your graceso that the things of this earth and things more naturally pleasing to me, may not be as close as YOU are to me. Keep my eyes, my ears, my heart from clinging to the things of this world. Break my bonds, raise my heart. Keep my whole beeing fixed on you. Let me never lose sight of You; and while I gaze on you, let my love grow more and more every day.