GOD nurtures in his garden many fruits.
Some, very slow of growth, become at last
Sweet and enduring. Some put forth their shoots
With hasty promise, bloom and soon are past.
Each has its season and the husbandman
Waits patiently, remembering that each
Must strive within its nature as it can
Its own appointed destiny to reach.
So patiently the eye of faith can see
The nettle-blooms of war and hate increase,
While slowly through the ages grows that tree
Whose leaves are healing and whose fruit is peace.
Published in The Crisis, March 1927