I would not be a fruitless tree, With fol’age o’er and o’er, On which the Master’s eye might find But leaves and nothing more; On which the Master’s curse might fall And wither root, and branch, and all, And wither root, and branch, and all.
I would not be a fruitless branch On Christ, who is the Vine, And cast abroad my deadly shade Where sunlight ought to shine— The which the husbandman must spurn, And cast into the fire to burn, And cast into the fire to burn.
I would not be a barren ground, Refusing aught to yield, But choking thistles, thorns, and tares— A bad and worthless field, From which the Lord would turn away, And leave it ever waste to lay, And leave it ever waste to lay.
I would not be a servant mean, And hide beneath the ground The talent given by my Lord— At last a sloth be found, Who, at the final judgment day, Must be forever cast away, Must be forever cast away.
Sources:
The Standard Publishing Company, Jewels for Juniors, circa 1911 (87)