Humility and Fruit by F. C. Kolbe Lyrics

Only upon its tendrils blooms the vine, ----
Those tendrils by whose aid it soars aloft
And lifts its bannered leafage, broad and soft,
Above the strong elm. Its gold shoots twine
High up in the air in sweet mock-martial line
As if its strength were all its own. Yet doff'd
Of these its tendrils, prone upon the croft
In barren weakness must it soon recline.
Only the tendril blooms; only the flower
Gives fruit; and only for the fruit it brings
Does the vine live. The Christian soul likewise
Only in humble clinging finds its power,
And like the Master's Vine, piercing the skies,
Bears fruit in that alone whereby it clings.