One day, the vine
That clomb on gods own house
Cried, I will not grow
And, I will not grow,
And, I will not grow,
And, I will not grow,
So God leaned out his head,
And said:
You need not Then the vine
fluttered its leaves, and cried to all the winds:
Oh have I not permission from the Lord?
And may I not begin to cease to grow?
But that wise God had pondered on the vine
Before he made it.
And all the while it laboured not to grow,
It grew; it grew;
And all the time God knew.
