Flowers Without Fruit Poem by John Henry Newman
Flowers Without Fruit
Prune thou thy words; the thoughts control
That o'er thee swell and throng;--
They will condense within thy soul,
And change to purpose strong.
But he who lets his feelings run
In soft luxurious flow,
Shrinks when hard service must be done,
And faints at every woe.
Faith's meanest deed more favor bears,
Where hearts and wills are weighed,
Than brightest transports, choicest prayers,
Which bloom their hour, and fade.
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4/19/2024 6:54:44 PM # 1.0.0.1119
A true comment on human nature and the virtue of being thoughtful and discreet. Reduce the number of words which you speak, speak only if you have something worth saying. Do not prattle about trivial things. Faith makes your deeds, which result from hearts and wills being weighed within the person, more valuable than 'brightest transports, choicest prayers, / Which bloom their hour, and fade'. The image of the flower that fades is so right and visual. A very fine didactic poem.