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NOTHING BUT LEAVES

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Publishing Committee · Battle Creek, Mich. · Sep 1, 1859

FromReview and Herald, Vol. 14, No. 15.

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“NOTHING BUT LEAVES.”

NOTHING but leaves; the Spirit grieves Over a wasted life; Sin committed while conscience slept, Promises made but never kept, Hatred, battle, and strife; Nothing but leaves!
Nothing but leaves; no garnered sheaves, Of life's fair, ripened grain; Words, idle words, for earnest deeds; We sow our seeds—lo! tares and weeds; We reap with toil and pain Nothing but leaves.
Nothing but leaves; memory weaves No veil to screen the past; As we retrace our weary way, Counting each lost and mis-spent day, We find sadly at last, Nothing but leaves.
And shall we meet the Master so, Bearing our withered leaves? The Saviour looks for perfect fruit— We stand before him humble, mute; Waiting the word he breathes— “Nothing but leaves.”
[Christian Inquirer.